


Party At The End Of The World

by ZTX



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), Doctor Who (2005), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2019-10-02 04:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17257943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZTX/pseuds/ZTX
Summary: Fourth and final in a series. "One last party at the end of the world. What's the worst that could happen?"Something has gone wrong. Very, very wrong. When the Doctor and her new friends arrive in Battery City 2019, they find themselves in a race against time to fix what went awry before the whole of reality collapses.





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Doctor Who, the BBC, or My Chemical Romance.

 

* * *

 

 

CHAPTER ONE: THE GHOST INSIDE YOUR HEAD

 

With a flick of a switch and a skip in her step, the Doctor bounded around her gritty console room, jogged on past her new friends, and over to the TARDIS door.

“Alright, team,” she said, glancing back at the three of them with a giddy grin, “You ready for this?”

The trio nodded.

With a deep breath, she gave the doors a triumphant shove and stepped out, feet crunching gravel as she spread her arms wide to either side,

“Ta-da!”

Her eyes fell upon a rather unimpressive city smack dab in the middle of a desert, glowing softly under a churning, grey sky. Yaz stepped out behind her, as did Graham, followed by Ryan and they stared at the city together for a moment.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“No idea,” the Doctor said with a smile, hands on her hips, “I should probably go check.”

Popping back over to the console, the Doctor scurried across the grated floor to take a peek at the monitor.

“Looks a bit like _Blade Runner_ ,” Ryan said, arms crossing his chest, “All dusted out and creepy like that in the distance.”

“Oh, your Nan loved that movie,” Graham said, “Thought Harrison Ford was a dish, she did. Tried to get me to dress up as Indiana Jones last Halloween. Bought me the whip and everything--”

“I don't really wanna hear that, Graham.”

“Not for anything like that,” Graham clarified, “There was a Halloween party--”

“Still don't wanna hear it,” Ryan reiterated.

“All of you back inside! Now!” the Doctor shrieked, rushing back over and pushing them back through the doorway.

“Why?” Yaz asked, watching the Doctor as she feverishly dashed about, flicking all the switches and levers she could, “What's wrong?”

"We're leaving," the Doctor said quickly, "Today's not good for me! No time to explain!”

"But I don't understand," Ryan said, shaking his head, "We just got here. Don't you wanna check it out?”

"Not really!" the Doctor shouted. She took to violently smashing the buttons, cranking at levers she wasn't quite sure actually worked, all in a vain effort to do something, _anything_ to get them out of this moment.

"Are you scared of something?" Yaz asked, "Is it something to do with that city over there?”

"No!" the Doctor squeaked, shaking her head. She paused a moment, looking at the monitor again, "Maybe...”

Walking across the console room, Yaz stepped up beside her and placed a hand on hers.

"Doctor," she said softly, "Why not today? What's so wrong with today?”

The Doctor was silent a moment. Head bowed, she heaved a heavy sigh, refusing to look at any of them.

“D'you remember how I told you time is delicate?” she asked.

“Yeah,” they replied.

“Well,” the Doctor began, “This time is ten times more delicate than any other time we've been to.”

“Why?” Ryan asked, “What's so special about it?”

The Doctor walked back over to the doors and threw them open, looking out at the dark, desert city once more.

“Today is November 18th, 2019,” she said grimly, “And on this day, in one hour, in that city...one of my very best friends is going to die. And I can't be here, or I will try to stop it. And the ripples that that could cause...would be unfathomable.”

The trio fell silent.

“We'll go, then,” Graham said finally, “We don't have to stick around.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed, “We can go someplace else.”

“Really?” the Doctor sighed, visibly relieved, “Wow. Okay. Good! Usually when I tell someone no we can't stay here, it takes more convincing. They just wander off anyway or tell me we have to stay cause it might be important.”

The lights in the TARDIS abruptly cut out.

“Maybe we should stay, after all,” Ryan said with a cheeky smirk, “Might be important.”

The Doctor shot him an annoyed glare as she dashed around the console, trying to get the TARDIS running again,

“Don't you start.”

Nothing worked.

With a growl, the Doctor slammed her palms against the keyboard and hung her head,

“Whatever you're planning I want no part of it, do you hear me? I can't interfere. I _won't_. Not this time.”

 

_BAM. BAM. BAM. BAM._

 

They all jumped at the sound of rapping on the TARDIS door. It came again, this time more angry, more quick. And it kept on coming.

 

_BAM.BAM.BAM.BAM.BAM.BAM.BAM.BAM._

 

Jogging around the console, the Doctor waved the three back,

“Get back from the door, far as you can.”

She stood fast in front of them, breath held, hearts beating a mile a minute,

“Oh, Michael, that better be you. Actually no, on second thought, that better _not_ be you, cause if it is, you're about to get a swift, kick in the--”

The doors flung open and in poured a group of men dressed in all white, faces shrouded in cartoonish Dracula masks. The Doctor leapt back, waving to the others,

“You three, stay behind me!!”

From the folds of her coat, she pulled out the sonic and aimed it at the men.

“I'm warning you,” she said, “I am armed and very dangerous.”

“Good,” came a voice from behind the men, “Because so are we.”

The Doctor tensed. She knew that voice. She'd heard it long ago, way back then, when she'd come to save this same, sorry desert from a Cyberman invasion. Oh, that was so many years ago, now. How the time flew.

Out from their ranks, he morphed into view, chrome dome gleaming in the amber ambiance. The tails of his trench coat flapped against the back of his legs with each precise and thoughtful step. Hands clasped behind his back, he inspected the four, eyes finally meeting with the Doctor's,

“And I hope you're ready for a fire fight.”

A chill ran down her spine, tickling like a spider, and she held up her hands in surrender.

 

 ~ø~

 

After a short, violently bumpy ride in the back of an armoured van, the group, each securely cuffed by the wrists and chained at the ankles, were escorted out in single file. Towering above them, a skyscraper bearing a neon happy face gazed down at the city. Most would think it benign, find themselves smiling back. But the Doctor knew better. Breath held, she stared it down, snarling silently.

“Doctor?” Yaz whispered, obviously noticing the change in her demeanor, “What's going on? Why have they brought us here?”

“I don't know,” the Doctor replied, “But whatever it is...it can't possibly be good.”

She turned to Ryan and Graham and nodded shortly,

“Right. Keep your guard up. All of you. Do not trust anything you see or hear. Is that understood?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said shortly, “Got it.”

The men led them inside and through a pristine, glass lobby with windows for the walls, where the Doctor took pause for a moment.

“This is where it happens,” she breathed, gazing a one pure white wall framed in black tile, bearing the company logo.

“Where what happens, Doc?” Graham asked, innocently enough.

But the nickname caused a hitch in her breath and she felt a lump growing in her throat, smack dab where the old Adam's apple used to be. That's what _he_ used to call her. Before he didn't anymore. Before he was silenced. Standing in this spot and staring at that space, she felt hollow, as cold as this hall and exponentially more empty. She could almost hear the screams of the little girl who had stood not five feet away when the shot rang out.

“Doctor,” Yaz said softly, “Are you all right?”

“No,” the Doctor replied, “Not even slightly.”

The masked men shoved them forward,

“Keep walking!”

They were marched down many a glistening, walls lined with posters of various people big X marks and the label 'EXTERMINATED' concealing each visage.

Ryan shook his head,

“Wanted posters?”

“No,” Yaz said, “I think they're already dead.”

“Guess they weren't ' _living better'_ than,” he joked, “Were they?”

The Doctor remained silent.

They were led into an elevator and escorted to a higher floor. Again, one-by-one, the masked men took them to a white room with a long table with four, black chairs. They were sat in a row, and cuffed to the table, and when the men left, Graham shook his head,

“All right. That was fun. Could you tell us what's going on, now, Doc?”

“Please stop calling me that, Graham,” she sighed, closing her eyes, “Just for right now, if you could. Thanks.”

He straightened in his seat and let out a whistle,

“Testy.”

Yaz leaned forward from her spot, fists clenched as the cuffs cut into her wrists,

“Doctor, please. If you don't tell us what's going on, we can't help, now can we?”

The Doctor looked up at the clock on the wall mournfully,

“Twenty after. Forty minutes left, now.”

Craning her head back, she closed her eyes and let out a sigh,

“I can't do this. Please don't make me be here for this...!”

“This is about your friend?” Yaz prodded, “The one who died?”

She nodded solemnly.

“What happened to 'em?” Ryan asked, “Were they sick? Or was it something worse?”

“Worse,” the Doctor said, “Much worse.”

“Well, stop being cryptic and get on with it,” Graham said, “'Cause Yaz is right. We ain't gonna know what's wrong if you keep it all to yourself, so c'mon! Spill!”

Nervously, the Doctor looked at the three of them, fists clenching and unclenching,

“Right! Right, of course. You're right.”

Her eyes wandered to the clock again. Thirty-five minutes.

“There was...a man. His name was Michael. I met him and his friends on my way to have tea with Charlie Chaplin two faces ago.”

“Two faces?” Ryan frowned. Yaz shushed him.

“He was a bit of an arse,” the Doctor smiled, “Had a heck of a mouth on him...but what I remember most was his kindness. Shone like the sun in his smile. He couldn't turn a blind eye to anyone when they were hurting. Made it his mission to fix whatever needed fixing.”

“He sounds a bit like you,” Graham noted.

The Doctor nodded,

“I know! I thought so, too!! I tried to get him to travel with me, but he wouldn't do it! Said this desert was his home, and the people needed him here. His family needed him here.”

“So, what happened to him, then?” Yaz asked.

The Doctor swallowed hard, recalling the surveillance video of their last stand.

“His little girl got taken away from him. And nobody separates Michael from his family, not on his watch. So, he did what anyone would do in that situation. He and the boys, packed up and stormed the building. Came in right through the front door. Nobody expected it.”

Graham nodded,

“You know that reminds me of a story my granddad used to tell us kids every Christmas. Back in the war, there was this crazy Yank who was famous for pulling a move like that. Never formed a plan, just charged in head on, guns blazing. Worked like a charm, every time! Nobody could figure out how he did it.”

“Well, it didn't work for them,” the Doctor said, shaking her head, “They were massacred. Mercilessly slaughtered downstairs in the lobby, right in front of her. Just steps away from the exit.”

“That's awful,” Yaz said softly.

“Isn't it?” the Doctor said, “Lord knows I'd love to change it, too, but I can't. Michael's death is a fixed point in the history of this place, and if it gets altered, even by a fraction of a hair, we could be dealing with a paradox of cataclysmic proportions.”

The door burst open then, echoing throughout the small room with a loud creak. In stepped a woman, with a jet black bob and a grey suit on. She sat across the table from them, file folder in her hands.

“Hello, Go-Go,” the Doctor said curtly, “Or should I say Madam Director? Come to pump us full of your little fear toxin? Turn us all into Draculoids?”

Graham raised an eyebrow at that,

“Dracu-what?”

The Director ignored her and proceeded to open the folder, flipping through the files,

“You are alleged to have parked an unauthorized vehicle--”

“What?” the Doctor snorted, “No, no, Go-Go, it's me--”

“--in a Red Zone. Made threats against a S.C.A.R.E.C.R.O.W operative--”

“ _Hardly_ \--”

“--and are thought to have conspired against Battery City with the likes of the Killjoy rebellion.”

The Doctor smiled at that,

“Oh, yes. Yes, I did. Not these lot, they're new. But I most certainly did. And d'you know what?”

She leaned forward with a nod,

“I'd do it again. A million times over.”

The Director stiffened and shook her head,

“These charges are punishable by death.”

Yaz scowled at that,  
“Death? Don't we even get a trial?”

“Yeah,” Ryan chimed in, “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“We do things very differently here in Battery City,” the Director coldly replied, shooting her a snake-like smile.

With a click of her remote, the wall turned into a screen, projecting a security feed from 30 minutes prior. The TARDIS slowly but surely appeared and the Doctor popped out, then ran back inside.

Ryan shook his head,

“But we were out in the open? How'd they have a security camera all the way out there? There were no trees, no telephone poles.”

“B.L.Ind has no use for a camera so _unsightly_ , young man,” the Director continued, “We are more efficient than that. Flies on the wall, as it were.”

Taking one of the files from the folder, the Director scooted it across the table toward the Doctor,

“We are prepared to make a deal. In exchange for your lives and a much lighter sentence, we require your assistance.”

The Doctor shook her head,

“And what would that be?”

“The Killjoys,” she said, “Tell us everything you know about them, and you are free to go. After 12 years of servitude, of course.”

The Doctor swallowed hard, keeping her eyes locked on the Director instead,

“And if we refuse?”

“Then, you will be put to death at our earliest convenience,” the Director smiled.

Glancing first to Yaz, then to Ryan and Graham, the Doctor sighed and shook her head,

“Listen, Go-Go. There's nothing I could tell you that you don't already--”

She looked down at the photograph, expecting to see Party Poison or Dr. Death Defying, or even the graffiti-ridden 1979 Trans Am, but instead, she was met with a surveillance photograph of a young woman in a neon red jacket and black pants with brown, buckled boots. She was crouched in the brush, her brown hair pulled up in a ponytail behind her head, but on her face, she wore a white domino mask.

The Doctor shook her head,

“Who is that?”

“The leader of the Killjoys,” the Director said shortly.

The Doctor continued to gape at the photograph, completely stunned. She couldn't be 100% sure, but if she didn't know better, she would swear that woman looked familiar.

Like someone she'd lost oh so very long ago.

“It can't be,” she breathed, hearts hammering hard in her chest.

“So, you do know her?” the Director said.

“No,” the Doctor reiterated, “And even if I did, she's not the _leader_ of the Killjoys! Everyone knows that!”

“She isn't?” the Director pressed, “Then, pray tell, who is?”

The Doctor rolled her eyes and let out a groan as she slumped back in the chair,

“Party Poison is! _Duh_!”

She then paused and glanced over at Ryan,

“Am I the sort of person who says 'duh', now?”

Ryan shrugged.

“Interesting,” the Director said, shaking her head as she thumbed through the paper work, “There's no Killjoy by that name in our records.”

The Doctor straightened.

“What?” she breathed, “No, there has to be. Check again.”

“I know the list like the back of my hand, miss,” the Director said, “And there is no one registered under that name.”

“That's impossible,” the Doctor insisted, “There are hundreds of Killjoys out in the Zones. You can't have possibly memorised all of their names!”

“Hundreds?” the Director laughed, pulling out another sheet from the file, “You overestimate those thugs.”

The list was short, only 10 names in total, and sure enough, Party Poison was not among the listed few.

“Hot Chimp. Cherri Cola, Show Pony,” the Doctor shook her head, “ _Greg_? No! No, where are the boys? Where's Dr. Death Defying!?”

“I'm afraid I've never heard that name, either,” the Director said, taking the file back, “But I'll be sure to jot it down, along with this, _Party Poison_ , and keep a keen look out--”

She made to get up, but the Doctor reached out and grabbed her firmly by the wrist,

“Eri Takahashi. Don't you dare sit there and act like you don't know who I'm talking about.”

The Director stiffened at that, eyes wide as saucers.

“I beg your pardon?” she said, voice like ice.

“You loved him,” the Doctor continued, “Yeah? That's why it hurt so bad? When Michael left you back there in the 40s? When he stabbed you in the back, left you there to rot? Said all those nasty things to you? All those hurtful, insensitive things? He broke your heart! You never wanted anyone to hurt like that again, feel so betrayed and helpless and worthless. And I'm so sorry that happened to you, Eri. I truly am. It was wrong, and you must have been so scared. But two wrongs don't make a right. And what you're doing here? Forcing these people to take part in your little program? Shoving your literal happy pills down their throats--”

“The people of Battery City take their medication because they want it, not because I _make_ them--”

“Oh, my eye, they do,” the Doctor groaned, “Unless of course those little pills are the only thing to counteract the fear gas you pump directly into the atmosphere? The acid rain? The toxicity levels in the Zones? It's all your chemicals, don't deny it! Party Poison knew that. So, did the boys. But if they're not on that list, then that means something must have happened to them. So what, then? Did you ghost them? Cut them up into little pieces with your fancy sword over there? What did you do to them, Eri!? Where is Michael, now!?”

“I don't know anyone by that name,” the Director raised her voice with a snarl, “And I have no idea who this Michael is you're talking about, either! And since you refuse to cooperate...”

Abruptly rising to her feet, the Director marched to the door and glanced back at them,

“My Draculoids will be back to escort you to a cell. Perhaps a few hours in confinement will warm you up to a confession.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, the Doctor rose to her feet and pulled desperately at the cuffs, letting out an enraged growl as she failed to break free.

“If I had my sonic, we'd be free before you could even bat an eyelash,” she said.

“Well, what do we do, now?” Ryan shrugged, “Unless somebody's got a key or something, I'd say we're pretty much stuck here.”

“Yeah,” Graham nodded, leaning toward the Doctor, “And about those Dracula men--”

“Not now, Graham,” the Doctor snipped, shaking her head, “I need to concentrate.”

“Is there anyway we could call somebody?” Yaz asked, “Like...can the TARDIS send out a message? An SOS? Anything?”

The Doctor turned to her, eyes wide as a grin slowly spread across her face,  
“Oh, Yaz. Brilliant mind you have. Exactly on my wavelength.”

She then looked over at Ryan, stern look on her face,

“I need your phone.”

Ryan snorted and shook his head,

“No way.”

“Ryan--”

“Last time I lent you my phone, you reformatted it,” he protested, “I lost everything! My contacts! My pictures! My whole Instagram page got wiped! I can't even get Snapchat to work, anymore! So, no. No way, borrow Yaz's.”

“What did you need all those photos of you flexing in the bathroom mirror for, anyway?” Yaz said, grinning ear to ear. Ryan sneered at her.

“Shut up,” he said, “That's not all I had on there.”

“You did have them, though?”

“I said, shut up.”

Shaking her head, the Doctor turned to Yaz, eyes big and pleading,

“Can I borrow your phone? I promise not to reformat it, I just need to make a call.”

Yaz thought about it for a moment, so hard that the Doctor could practically see the gears in her brain moving behind her eyes.

“Fine,” she said finally, “It's in my jacket. Left breast pocket.”

“Oi, though, Doc, how you gonna get it?” Graham piped up, “Not exactly Houdini, are you?”

“No,” the Doctor said, “But we did spend a lovely weekend together once. Have to show you lot what he taught me sometime.”

Angling herself toward Yaz, she nosedived for her jacket, nudging the flap open with her nose. She fished it out of the folds with her teeth, gagging as she spat it out on the table.

Yaz cringed,

“I think I'd have rather you reformatted it.”

The Doctor ignored her comments and pressed on. Leaning down, she swiped the phone open with the tip of her nose and went to the keypad.

“All right,” she said, gently tapping it in, “I think this should be the number...”

“Number?”

“Of Michael's phone,” she said, hitting call, “I gave him one when I left here the first time. It should be working, if he's even still got it...”

“Why would he have gotten rid of it?” Ryan frowned, “You guys are friends, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” the Doctor nodded, “Yeah, yeah, yeah...sort of.”

She placed it on speaker.

It rang three times, then a woman's voice clicked on.

 

**"We're sorry. The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. Please hang up and try again."**

 

* * *

A/N: I've always been a firm believer of never say never, and sure e-fucking-nuff, here I am. I'm gonna try and post at least once every month, as I haven't got a whole lot of free time anymore, but honestly, I have missed these little boobs so much, so, here we are! I hope you guys enjoy the ride. I have absolutely no idea where we are going.  
****


	2. The Famous Living Dead

 

 

CHAPTER TWO: THE FAMOUS LIVING DEAD

 

The stand off hadn't gone the way he'd expected. He'd woken up just in time to see Korse dragging Girl away, kicking and screaming, and crying out for help. And how fucking useless he'd been, spending the last three weeks off gallivanting through time and space, not by his will, mind you, but off and away just the same.

So much time, wasted. There was no getting it back.

And now, the end was here.

Party Poison stared silently out the window, donning his jacket and securing his holster to his belt as watched the dying sun cast out embers onto the desert valley beyond, sinking below the horizon, snuffed out like a match. It was almost poetic, he thought, watching the sun burn out, knowing that in just a short while, he would be doing the same. For the briefest of moments, he spared a thought for them, wondered what he'd do if that damned blue box showed up just one more time on his doorstep. Would he run? Would he fly away with them, wherever they willed him, just one more time?

One more dance around the universe?

No. He was needed here. To make the hard choice, the choice history needed him to make. That's what Doc had said, right? That was his job, now. He just wished that choice didn't involve him walking his friends to their deaths.

There was a knock at the door behind him, followed by Fun Ghoul's soft, uncertain voice.

“You ready, P?”

 

#

 

The Doctor paced back and forth in the cell, nervously looking to the clock on the wall.

Twenty minutes left. She ran her hands up through her cropped, blonde bob, shaking it out, yanking at the strands in aggravation,

“We have to get out of here before the ambush, get to the desert and find out what the hell happened here--”

“Oi, Doc,” Graham protested, “Language!”  
“Shut up, Graham,” the Doctor said curtly, glancing at the clock again.

Yaz watched quietly as she continued to pace and pull at her hair, unsure of what to say. She had never seen the Doctor act this way before, so manic and out of control, like a caged canary beating at the bars to break free and fly away.

“They must be at the tunnel, by now,” the Doctor said, “So, let's see, that gives us maybe 5 minutes before they reach the building. Another 10 before they rescue Girl...”

“But that woman? The Director,” Ryan said, “She said she didn't know 'em. These guys you're talkin' about? Maybe she's onto something.”

“No,” the Doctor said, shaking her head fiercely, “No, they exist. They have to. The world...no, the universe wouldn't be the same without them in it--”

“That's what I'm sayin', Doctor,” Ryan continued, rising to his feet, “Things are already different then you remember, right? Maybe something happened. In the past. Erased them from existence or somethin'...”

“That woman in the picture,” Yaz chimed in, “That Operator. Would she know anything about it?”

The Doctor nodded,

“She might. When we get to the desert, we will definitely seek her out. She might be able to help us retrace the boys' steps, find out what's happened to everyone.”

The Doctor tensed as the lights suddenly cut out. A moment later, a serious of soft blue lights came on and an alarm began to sound.

“Oh, no,” the Doctor breathed, “It's too late. It's started.”

 

#

 

The barrier snapped in half like a twig. The Trans Am roared viciously as Party Poison slammed his foot down on the gas, flooring it to the tower. They came to a screeching halt just before the foot bridge. Sparing one last look to the Polaroid of the little girl on the dashboard, the four of them climbed out of the car, and readied their guns. A light drizzle showered them as they stormed the entrance, Poison at the front. Here, they were immediately greeted by men in white, cloth masks. He shot them dead without a second thought.

 

#

 

“We have to get out of here,” the Doctor swallowed hard, eyes darting around the cell.

Turning away from the solid metal door that barred them in, she turned her gaze upwards, and spied the air vent with a grin.

“Two for two, I suppose,” she sighed, rolling up her sleeves, “Ryan, Graham, give us a boost, yeah?”

The two exchanged concerned glances.

 

#

 

They had her held up in the main control room. Fun Ghoul went in first, shot the guards dead. Party Poison rushed around him, b-lining for the little girl seated on the floor. She leapt to her feet the moment she laid eyes on him.

“Poison!!”

Crashing to his knees, he pulled her in and squeezed her tight.

“I knew you weren't dust,” she squealed happily, just barely audible over the sounding siren,“I knew it, I knew it!!”

“Pigs are on their way,” Kobra Kid said, standing guard at the door, “We should go.”

Jet Star joined him by the door, gun ready by his side.

“Poison?” Fun Ghoul pressed. He didn't answer. Instead, he squeezed Girl a little tighter and closed his eyes, the alarms growing more and more distant. One more minute, that was all he needed.

Just one more minute.

“Poison!”

He opened his eyes and glanced back at the boys. Fun Ghoul waved him on,

“C'mon! We gotta go! Now!”

“I know the way,” Girl piped up, quickly taking his hand and pulling him along, “They brought me in through the back. I'll show you!”

 

#

 

They popped out through a vent in the main control room, sirens still blaring overhead. Three guards lay on the floor, tossed about like rag dolls. Yaz rushed over to the first one she saw, and checked for a pulse. She shook her head,

“Dead.”

The Doctor nodded as she climbed out next,

“They've already been here. Which means...”

Whirling around, she turned to the monitors. Several halls were up on the screen, but none of them showed the boys movements. Pushing the chairs out of her way, she went in for a closer look, tapping at the keys to change angles.

It took a few clicks, but finally, she came to it.

The lobby.

The murderous scene of the Killjoys last stand.

Her hearts stopped, breath caught in her throat as she watched the scene that was unfolding in awe and terror.

“Oh, no,” she whispered, “Oh, no, no, no...”

 

#

 

“That's far enough!”

Party Poison froze as the shout rang out, followed by a laser beam whizzing past his cheek seconds later. Time seemed to slow as he whirled around, drawing his gun as he had become so accustomed to after all his years in the desert.

His mind went blank, kicked over to auto pilot. Thank God, no more thoughts.

_Just the deep ache of knowing._

No matter how hard he fought, no matter how many Dracs they turned to dust, this was it.

The end. They were dead.

Everything was coming at him so fast, and from every angle all at once. He let his feet take the lead, charging to the front, making sure that wherever he went, whatever he did, he kept moving. He just had to keep moving.

Coming up behind one of Korse's goons, he grabbed the back of the mask and fired a shot straight into their back. They fell to the ground, leaving the mask behind in his grasp. His blood ran cold at the sight of the human face behind the monster.

_'”Benny, come on!”'_

The very frightened face of that boy back on the beaches came screaming into the forefront, and he could see nothing else as he gaped in shock at the freshly ghosted Drac lying at his feet. He backed away from him slowly, heart pounding, adrenaline surging. The whole scene had slowed, laser beams flying, bodies dropping this way and that. He let the mask fall, staggered away from the body. He didn't want to do this. It couldn't end this way, could it? There had to be another way. Any other way.

All it would take was a phone call. Just one, quick phone call.

No, the Doctor wouldn't help. He already knew exactly what he'd say.

“ _This is a fixed point, Michael. It cannot be changed or altered in anyway. To do so would collapse all of reality as we know it!”_

Or something like that. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't just let them die like this. Having lead them all here.

_Like Benny._

Then, it happened. A hand came out of nowhere, grabbed him by the throat and shoved him back against the wall.

Korse. Jolted back to his senses, he became hyper aware of everything around him. Everything once was dull was now made sharp. Every flutter of his heart, the splashing of each laser beam, melting glass and metal as it collided against the structures around them, bursting like fireworks. Behind Korse, he heard a shout, someone calling his name.

Kobra Kid.

_No, don't come,_ he thought, _Don't try to save me._

But he would, anyway. He already knew that. He'd seen the video, he knew how this played out.

And as he felt the searing hot nozzle of a ray gun press firmly up under his chin, he braced himself for what would inevitably come next. The gun began to vibrate. Korse had pulled the trigger, and the beam would be burning a hole right through his brain any second, now.

He closed his eyes...

 

#

 

Yaz stepped up behind the Doctor, leaning in for a look.

“Doctor?” she asked, “What are we looking at?”

The Doctor shook her head, eyes wide. Graham stepped over to have a look at the screens as well.

“Looks to me like an empty building.”

“That's exactly what it is,” she managed finally, flipping through more cameras. Every hall way, every room.

There were no signs of life anywhere.

“This can't be right. The boys should be here! Now! They should be...”

She turned and marched away from the screen,

“I don't get it! Where are they? Where's Girl? Where's anyone!? And what are these sirens goin' off for, if not them?”

“And who did this?” Ryan asked, pointing to the dead bodies on the floor, “Looks like an animal got hold of 'em.”

The Doctor hurried over for a closer look. Kneeling down, she inspected the wounds carefully.

“I think you're right, Ryan. This was definitely an animal of some kind,” she reached for her inside pocket, then let out an annoyed growl, “And if I had my sonic, I could tell you exactly what.”

Hopping up, she turned to the trio and nodded.

“All right, team. The most likely place for them to have taken it is the Director's office, which should be located on the top floor--”

“ _Should_ be located?” Graham questioned, “You mean you don't know? I thought you said you'd been here before.”

“I have,” the Doctor protested, “But it's not like they invited me for tea and biscuits! It was a very stressful day!”

“You spent it in the air vent, didn't you?” Yaz said.

The Doctor paused a moment, then grinned sheepishly,

“Yeah, most of it. But it's really cozy up there, innit? Love a good air vent! Very 007.”

Then, whirling on her heel, she trotted back over to the open vent and crawled inside, disappearing into the dark.

The trio exchanged exasperated looks.

“Well, c'mon!” the Doctor called from the pitch black vent, “We haven't got all day!”

 

#

 

They made it to the top well over four hours later, and long after the sirens had ceased.

Popping the latch off the wall, the Doctor hopped down first and stretched with a satisfied grin,

“Never gets old.”

“Actually it did,” Graham groaned, “About three hours ago when my neck started cramping. Now, can I please ask you about the Dracula people?”

“Not now, Graham,” she shushed him, “Later! When we aren't in the middle of an escape plan!”

“What escape plan,” he grumbled, “We just went deeper into the lion's den!”

The Doctor scowled at him and narrowed her eyes.

“So,” Yaz cleared her throat, glancing back and forth between them, “What now? Where do we start looking?”

“Right,” the Doctor said, “If I remember right, and I probably do--”

“Probably?” Graham snorted.

“--the Director's office should be at the end of the hall,” the Doctor nodded, “Maybe.”

“Oh, we're down to _maybe_ , now?” he raised a brow, “Well, that's excellent. Love me a good maybe.”

The Doctor ignored him. She started down the hall, quietly at first, keeping them behind her. There was talking coming from the Director's office. Loud talking.

Getting close to the door, the Doctor pressed her ear against it to listen, waving the others on.

“Is that really a good idea?” Ryan asked.

She shushed him.

There were two voices. One belonged to the Director, while the other definitely did not. It was deeper than hers, quite masculine, too. She could swear she'd heard it before.

_“This is getting out of control. Where do these dragons keep coming from? Have you found the source?”_ she demanded, sounding extremely agitated.

“ _No, ma'am,”_ the man replied, _“But I've got my boys working on it as we speak. It shouldn't be long before we find the source.”_

“ _Make sure that it is,”_ she commanded, _“Or you'll be spending the next fortnight in the Tank. Have I made myself clear?”_

“ _C-Crystal, ma'am.”_

The Doctor's eyes lit up as she turned and hustled over to the trio behind her,

“Did you hear that? We have dragons!”

“Oh, wonderful,” Graham said.

“Did they always have dragons?” Ryan asked.

The Doctor shook her head,

“Nope. The dragons are new!”

“Why are you so excited, then?” Yaz asked, “That could be why your friends are gone.”

“Oh no,” the Doctor stopped, crestfallen, “I hadn't thought of that. Do you think the dragons ate them!?”

“My head hurts, Doc,” Graham sighed, “Can we just get to the part where we fix it, please?”

“Right,” the Doctor nodded, “I really need to focus.”

She paused and thought about it for a moment.

“You don't know,” Graham answered, “Cause you're still thinking about the fact that it's dragons.”

“I am,” she squealed, “Sorry! It's just so exciting! Almost as exciting as that time I found dinosaurs on a spaceship!!”

“Sorry, you found dinosaurs where--?”

The four of them jumped as the alarm bell sounded again, blue and red lights flashing simultaneously.

Ushering them to an alcove to hide, the Doctor peeked around the corner as the Director's door flew open and she stormed out,

“Find the source. Now.”

“Yes, ma'am,” said the Draculoid that followed close behind her.

Seeing them disappear around the corner, the Doctor hurried over to the Director's office and tried the handle. It didn't budge.

“Urgh,of course,” she growled, glancing beside the door at the scanner, “I need an access key!”

She then turned and hurried to the end of the hall, peeking around the corner. The Draculoid was standing guard at the elevator and the Director was nowhere in sight. A devilish smile curled on her lips, she let out a loud whistle and stepped out into the hall,

“Oi! Vlad! Over here!”

Yaz nearly shrieked,

“Doctor!? What are you doing? Do you wanna get yourself killed!?”

Dodging a stray laser fired from his ray gun, the Doctor scrambled back over to the group and crouched down behind the corner,

“All right, gang. When he gets here, it's on my count, all right?”

“What's on your count?” Ryan asked, “What's the plan?”

“Well, you know that game in America,” the Doctor began, “Where a bunch of guys knock each other down over a ball?”

“You mean American Football?”

The Doctor nodded shortly, peeking around the corner.

“Yeah, that,” she said shortly, rolling up her sleeves, “We're gonna do that.”

“Do what?” Ryan scoffed, “Play football?”

“But he's got a gun,” Graham protested, “We can't just--!!”

Before he could even finish his sentence, the Draculoid came around the corner, gun at the ready, and the Doctor let out a holler that boomed throughout the room,

“NOW!”

The four of them ran at him at full speed, knocking him startled and senseless to the ground.

Once absolutely sure he was out, the Doctor hopped up and smiled, taking his name badge,

“Ha! See that? It really worked!”

“Did you _not_ think that plan was gonna work?” Yaz asked, slowly turning to look at her.

“What? Oh, yeah,” the Doctor nodded vigorously, “Of course I did. Mostly.”

Kicking the Draculoid's gun away from him, she turned and jogged back over to the Director's door. With a wave of the badge, the lock lit up green and the doors slid open to allow her entry. She turned the badge around to look at it, sighing to see a masked vampire face staring back at her,

“Thank you,” she turned it on it's side to read the name, “Joseph Thomas.”

Shrugging, she shoved the badge into her pocket and hurried inside. Yaz and the others cautiously followed.

“Doctor?” Yaz folded her arms as she watched the alien bound over to the Director's desk and rummage through it,

“Are you all right?”

“Aces,” the Doctor said quickly, “Why?”

“No reason. You just seem...” Yaz trailed off and shook her head, “...nevermind.”

“And even better, now,” the Doctor squealed, pulling the screwdriver out of the drawer on her left, “Hello, beauty!”

She kissed it, then shoved it back into her coat, waving the others on as she marched forward,

“All right, team! Let's get a shift on! We've got dragons to catch!!”

As she approached the still unconscious Draculoid, she paused and frowned,

“I knew your voice when I heard it, Joseph Thomas. Who are you?”

Aiming the screwdriver at the mask, she dialled into the server controller it and ejected him from the mainframe. Then carefully, she took the mask in both hands and pulled it away to reveal the youthful face of a man with short, dark hair just barely touching the tops of his ears. It took her a minute, but when it came, she launched herself upright and took a step back, eyes wide,

“N-No. No way, it can't be!!”

“What is it?” Yaz called, hurrying over, “What's wrong?”

“It's Fun Ghoul,” the Doctor breathed, “Joseph Thomas is Fun Ghoul!”

“And that would be?” Ryan frowned.

The Doctor motioned to the Draculoid lying at their feet.

“I gathered that,” Ryan rolled his eyes, “What's the big deal?”

“The big deal is that he's here,” the Doctor insisted, “And that he wasn't in the lobby four hours ago.”

“He's one of your friends, then, I take it,” Graham said.

“Yes, he was...”

“Do all your old friends try to kill you?”

“Sometimes,” she shrugged, “Thankfully, they're not always successful.”

Kneeling down beside him again, she shook her head and sighed,

“We can't leave him here. I need to know what happened to the rest of the boys. Something's gone wrong in the timeline and he might know something.”

“Well, I don't exactly see how we can get him out,” Ryan said, “There's guards everywhere. We'll be spotted.”

They all quieted.

“Actually, Doc, you know what?” Graham began, nodding to himself, “I think I've got an idea about that.”

He took the pass from her and headed back into the Director's office, the three of them following close behind. In the corner stood a cabinet with a few spare uniforms, and a handful of masks. Graham smiled as he took a uniform and a mask in hand, and turned to the group,

“Any of you ever seen _'Weekend at Bernie's?'_ ”

* * *

 

A/N: So, this was late. But it's still February so it's _fine_! Between Umbrella Academy and Kingdom Hearts 3, I've just been too busy having horrific high school flashbacks to work on this. Oops! Hopefully, next month's doesn't come so late. I just gotta get through the last chunk of the game and then I'll be in the clear, so no spoilers if you played it! 

Love you guys~! <3

 


	3. Children of the Gun

 

“Got any plans tonight, Fillmore?”

Looking up from his newspaper, Sentry Fillmore shrugged at the Draculoid in the gate across from him and sighed.

“Yeah, taking my kid to see that new buddy cop movie that came out last weekend. You know, the one with Jackie Chan?”

“You mean, _Hazel and Cha-cha?_ ”

“That's the one.”

The Draculoid shuddered.

“Don't know why that show is so popular. Those masks are fucking creepy...!”

“Tell me about it. Jackie's the man, though--”

 

_SCCCRRR-EEEECH._

 

The two took pause at the echoing shriek of tires bouncing from the tunnel walls. Leaning out of their booths, they spotted in the distance, a company car comically lurching down the tunnel toward them. It stopped every few feet, weaving wildly and bouncing with each break, until it finally came to a rough halt at Sentry Fillmore's booth. In the driver's seat, he spied a Draculoid sporting a rather lumpy trench coat and a Sentry in the passenger's seat. There were two more Sentry's in the back. The Sentry in the passenger's seat leaned over the Draculoid, who made no effort to move in any way, and gave a little wave.

“Hi,” the Sentry said, “Lovely day, isn't it?”

He stared at them blankly.

“We're just heading out,” she continued with a cough, “On patrol. Maybe to...bag some Killjoys. Or hunt dragons! You seen any by chance? You know? Dragons?”

“No,” Fillmore said, “Can't say that I have.”

“Well, that's a shame,” the Sentry said, “I hear they're really big. Joe's been tellin' us all about 'em, haven't you, Joe?”

The Sentry nudged the Draculoid, who slumped in such a way that seemed like his spine had snapped in half. Quickly, she yanked him back upright in the seat. Forcing a laugh, she slapped the Draculoid's chest and shook her head,

“Ah, Joe. Such a kidder! Last night, he took us all out for drinks to celebrate. We just started, you see? Today's our first day, and can I just say, I'm really excited to be here. You know. Patrolling. So, if you could just...open the gate, we can hop right to it!”

“Do you have identification?” Fillmore groaned.

“Oh, yeah,” the Sentry said, “Of course! Go on, now, Joe! Give the man your ID.”

Fillmore watched as the Draculoid took their hands off the wheel and patted themselves down as if blindly searching for a pocket. The Sentry beside them finally grabbed their hand and shoved it into the pocket of their trousers.

“Like I said,” she laughed, “Such a kidder.”

Fumbling for another moment, the Draculoid finally produced the ID card and handed it to Fillmore. Taking it cautiously, Fillmore looked at the ID then back at the car. If the Sentry hadn't had her mask on, he could have bet she'd be wearing some type of suspicious grin. He could almost see it in the folds even. Nevertheless, giving a shit about a car full of weirdos fell far above his pay grade, and with a shrug he handed the ID back and raised the gate. The car lurched onward, stopping and starting with screeches and skids, and only ever reaching about 15 mph.

“Well that was weird," the Draculoid said, "Do you think we shoulda stopped 'em?” 

“Nah,” Fillmore replied, “It's probably fine. What the Director doesn't know, won't hurt us.”

 

#

 

The car came to a halt a few miles from the city and the driver's side door flew opened. Out spilled Joe the Draculoid, still very unconscious, and now, very likely concussed.

“I am _never_ doing that again,” Graham grumbled as he stepped out and over their hostage.

“Why not?” the Doctor said, “I thought it was great!”

“Well, I didn't,” he said, taking off the trench coat as she rounded the car toward him, “I couldn't see nothing! Couldn't breathe without getting fake hair up my nose! Now, my neck's all outta whack! Why couldn't you have just used your psychic paper on 'em, Doc? We'd been out of there ages ago!”

“I mean, I _could_ have,” the Doctor said, kneeling down next to the Draculoid, “But what fun would that have been? Besides, you were so excited about your idea!”

Reaching down, she grabbed him by the arm pits and nodded to Yaz and Ryan,

“Here, help me get him in the back.”

“Do you really think he's gonna be able to help us?” Yaz asked, lifting one of his legs while Ryan took the other.

The Doctor shrugged.

“Maybe so,” she said, “Or maybe, if I can find the other boys and bring them all back together, something will spark? I just can't figure out why Fun Ghoul is a Draculoid suddenly.”

Loading him into the middle seat, she dusted off her hands and took her trench coat back from Graham,

“Right, let's get a shift on. Everybody back in the car. Yaz, you drive.”

“Oi,” Graham said, as Yaz took the keys from him, “She always gets to drive. Why can't I drive for once?”

“Cause I like it when Yaz drives,” the Doctor said, “I feel safe when Yaz drives!”

Yaz glanced back at Graham and shot him a cheeky grin, to which he scowled and climbed in the backseat beside Joe the Draculoid. They took off down the road, passing by Joshua trees and Zone markers, until finally they spied a familiar blue box up the way. As they rolled to a stop, the Doctor hopped out and hurried to the door. She tried to open it but it wouldn't budge.

“Yes, I know and I'm sorry! We didn't abandon you! It was only a few minutes!”

“Well, you know what they say about time. Funny thing, really. A few minutes can last you a lifetime...”

The Doctor stopped at the sound of that voice, oddly American this time around, but familiar none the less. She turned slowly to find a young woman, short in stature, hair tied back in a long, brown ponytail, face concealed by a white domino mask. She was leaning against the car, trigger finger poised and ready to fire the neon yellow blaster pressed to Yaz's temple.

“And if you want to see your lifetimes last a few minutes more, you'll do exactly as we say. Understood?”

“We?” The Doctor scoffed, looking around, “But you're the only one here?”

“Guess again, _sweet cheeks_...”

Out from behind the TARDIS stepped a young man with stark white hair and a blue domino mask that bore a blood red 'X'. The Doctor tensed. Two more popped out from behind the car, guns aimed at Ryan and Graham. Another came from out of the brush, aiming a bazooka right at her.

The woman by the car giggled,

“You were saying?”

She nodded to the white-haired one and he stepped down, forcefully grabbing the Doctor by the arm as he marched her back over to the car. As she approached the woman, she caught a glimpse of her doe brown eyes. They were exactly the same as the last time she'd seen her, coming up on 5 billion years, now.

With a click of her tongue, she waved the man around the car and opened Yaz's door, shoving her to the back where she had to squeeze in between Ryan and Joe the Draculoid. Her compatriot shoved the Doctor into the passenger seat, and with a smirk, the woman leaned over blew a kiss to the man,

“See you at home, Val.”

“Not if I see you first, Ozzie,” he grinned, shooting her a wink.

Turning to the Doctor, Ozzie bit her lip and eyed her up and down, then glanced at the four in the back.

“Well? Strap in, boys and girls,” she said, “You're in for a bumpy ride.”

She then turned the key, and revved the engine, looking the Doctor straight in the eye as she slammed on the gas. The car hurtled down the road at 90mph, slamming the six of them back against their seats. Behind them, the roaring of motorbikes clapped off the rocky mounds that surrounded them, echoing for miles. Through a series of winding, twisting roads, some on, some off, they soon found themselves at a relatively normal looking house.

Well, save for the gigantic robot-head laying in the yard.

“Destroya,” the Doctor breathed upon seeing it, “So, you still came, after all? Sorry, I couldn't help you. You know, before--”

“Quiet,” Ozzie said sharply, giving her a shove. They marched the small group into the hovel, where a gaggle of children were gathered around a TV screen playing what looked like an Atari.

Upon seeing Joe the Draculoid, still unconscious from the tackle earlier and slung unceremoniously over Val's shoulder, the children scrambled and fled into different rooms and halls of the house.

“They spook easy, don't they,” Yaz breathed.

“Well, I wouldn't blame them,” Ryan sighed, “Growing up in a place like this--”  
“Quiet,” Ozzie said again, whirling around to face them, “Next person who speaks gets to have their tongue cut out, fried and split between the other four. Got it?”

They shoved the Doctor down onto the sofa, Yaz, Ryan and Graham not far behind. They brought a kitchen chair out for Joe the Draculoid and tied him to it, then removed the mask.

Ozzie grabbed him by the cropped strands of his weirdly clean hair and lifted his head so they could see his face,

“I take it big man here is your superior officer?”

“Big man isn't the word I'd have used to describe him,” Ryan snorted.

Shaking her head, the Doctor sighed,

“No. He isn't. This isn't what it looks like--”

“Really?” Ozzie laughed, “Tell me what it looks like, then?”

The Doctor swallowed hard.

“My name is the Doctor and these are my friends, Ryan, Yaz and Graham. We're here because we landed here by mistake in my TARDIS.”

“Your _what_?” Ozzie blinked.

“It's a spaceship,” Yaz said.

“So, you're all _space people_ ,” Val scoffed, arms folded as he stepped up beside Ozzie.

“Listen,” the Doctor continued, “I know this sounds completely insane--”

“You definitely nailed _that_ on the head--” 

“But I promise. Me and my friends are not with the BLIndustries. We're not Draculoids and we're not Sentries, we're just looking for a friend.”

“A friend?” Ozzie smiled, “Is that what he's here for, too?”

She waved her ray gun in the direction of Joe and the Doctor sighed,

“No. Well, yes, he is, but there's more to it, you see? I have four friends. He's one of them, or he was once...”

Ozzie nodded. She narrowed her eyes, eyeing the group as she began to pace back and forth in front of them,

“So, you aren't Draculoids...but you're friends with them?”

The Doctor took pause.

“Em, well...about that, too. He's not really a Draculoid. He just--he's a bit confused, right now, is all.”

“Confused?”

“Yeah,” the Doctor nodded, “Confused! See, last time I was here, things were very, _very_ different. He was a Killjoy, and so were the others! His name's actually Fun Ghoul.”

Reaching down, Ozzie dipped her hand into Joe's trousers and pulled the pass card from his pocket.

“His ID card says 'Joseph Thomas',” she said, very unenthused.

“I know. Tragic, innit?” the Doctor said, “But you have to trust me. Last time I was here, things were very different. I was a man, the Weeping Angels were running amok, two of the boys got turned into Cybermen, Australia _disappeared_! It was a whole thing! Honestly, I was actually hoping we might run into you lot! Thought you might be able to help us get this sorted--”

“Oh, you were,” Ozzie beamed, suddenly affecting an atrocious Northern accent, “Blimey, did you 'ear that, Val? She reckons we can 'elp 'er!!”  
“Oh, Lord above, she does!?” Val mimicked, tucking his thumbs behind a pair of imaginary suspenders, “Well, I fink we can sort somefin' out.”

He took out his ray gun and lunged forward, snatching Yaz off of the sofa. The Doctor reached for her, narrowly missing her hand,  
“Yaz!”

Val pressed the gun to Yaz's chin, holding her tight as he nodded to the Doctor,

“So, what'll it be _Space Queen_? You gonna start singing like a songbird? Or do I have to blast a hole through her pretty little face?”

With a growl, Yaz reared back and elbowed Val in the gut, catching him off guard. He stumbled back a step or two, and before he could react, she'd taken his gun and stepped back over to the Doctor. Taking the gun, the Doctor tossed it onto the couch behind her as she stood up.

“Don't like guns,” she said, waving her sonic at it before taking aim at the one Ozzie had drawn. It sparked in the woman's hand and began smoking. Ozzie tossed it away, cursing softly. It must have burned her, the Doctor thought. Oops. Hadn't accounted for that.

“Sorry,” she said.

“How'd you do that?” Ozzie asked.

“Magic,” the Doctor said, “Now, please. We don't want to hurt anyone. We just want answers.”

“How can we trust you?” Val sneered, rubbing his gut sorely, “How do we know you won't ghost us?”

The Doctor looked over at Ozzie and sighed,

“You don't,” the Doctor shrugged, “But clearly, we all have questions. Us about you, you about us? So, why don't we just sit down and have a little chat together? Tea, biscuits? Maybe some Fancy Feast?”

Ryan and Graham exchanged looks at that one. Directing her gaze at Ozzie, the Doctor offered a smile,

“What do you say, _Oswin Oswald_? Do you trust me?”

Ozzie stiffened, doe brown eyes wide behind her domino mask.

“H-How do you know my name?”

“I think you know how,” the Doctor said.

Val frowned as he stepped up beside her,

“Ozzie? What's she talking about?”

“I don't know,” Ozzie breathed, voice barely a whisper.

“Then, why are you crying?” he asked.

Reaching up, she touched a finger to her cheek and stared at it, clearly puzzled.

The creaking of a door from behind them drew the Doctor's attention. She felt her hearts stop in her chest.

In stepped a man wearing an astronaut's helmet and a black leather jacket. As he lifted the helm, a plume of soft, brown coils formed a bouncy halo around his head. The Doctor gaped at him in shock, eyes alight in surprise, and before she could stop herself, she let out a shrill squeal of joy,

“ _JET STAR!_ ”

Practically flying across the room, she threw her arms around his waist, squeezing him tight as a vice. He grunted, likely unable to breathe.

“H-Have we met?” he wheezed.

“Of course we have!” the Doctor said, stepping back to look at him fully. Unlike Fun Ghoul, Jet Star hadn't changed a bit. He looked exactly the way she remembered him looking, right down to his motherly frown.

“Jet Star, it's me!” she cried, “The Doctor! You remember, don't you?”

“Doctor?” he shook his head, “Doctor, who?”

Before she could get another word out, Ozzie shouted to him, slightly panicked,

“Greg, grab her!”

The Doctor's eyes widened as he reacted, suddenly pinning her in a headlock,

“ _WHAT_!?”

Ozzie then stepped up and took the gun from Jet Star's belt, aiming it for the Doctor,

“I don't know who you are. And I don't care. But one more word out of you and you're dust? Got it?”

The Doctor nodded and motioned a zipper across her mouth.

After a second, she unzipped her lips and angled her head so that she could see Jet Star,

“I'm sorry, but since when have you been called _Greg_? It's really buggin' me.”

“Since I was born,” Jet Star replied.

“Really? That long?” the Doctor said, “You mean your parents couldn't name you something cooler? Like Jax, or Ash...or _Ray_?

“It's Greg,” he said.

“Ugh,” she groaned, “Well, that's disappointing. See now why you chose Jet Star--”

She silenced again as Ozzie shoved the ray gun directly into her view, inches from her nose.

“I said, _be quiet_.”

The Doctor quickly nodded.

“Right, sorry.”

Backing up, Ozzie nodded to Jet Star and the others, gun still aimed at the Doctor,

“Take them downstairs. A few hours in the ice box oughta chill them out.”

Jet Star handed the Doctor off to Val as the others came and apprehended Yaz, Ryan, and Graham. As they were marched from the living room and toward the stairwell, the Doctor glanced back at Jet Star and Ozzie. He approached her, speaking in hushed tones, but she unmistakably heard him say the words 'dragons' and 'Stargate'. Ozzie disappeared from view as they made their descent toward the basement, but not before the Doctor noted the wave of concern that swept over her face...

* * *

 

 **A/N:**  I wanna take this moment to apologise to all you Gregs out there. For the record, I have nothing against the name Greg, but you gotta admit it's a pretty underwhelming name for a Killjoy. 

xoxo

 

 


	4. Black Dragon Fighting Society

 

“Let us out!!” the Doctor shouted, teeth chattering as she beat her hand against the sturdy, steel door.

“ _Shut up!”_ came a shout from the other side, followed by an angry slam that rattled the bars covering the nearby window.

Scowling, she stepped back from the door and turned to the others,

“I don't like these people much, do you?”

“I didn't think that ice box meant they'd actually have a freezer,” Ryan shivered, “Since when do they have freezers in the apocalypse?”

“Since they can hook up a house to a giant robot and leech off it's energy, I suppose,” the Doctor sighed, walking over to a shelf lined with boxes of frozen dessert, “Guess in this timeline, they managed to get ice cream back...”

“Well, now what, Doc?” Graham shrugged, “Don't think they wanna answer any of our questions.”

“I think you're right about that, Graham, but luckily, we won't need them to.”

She turned to the unconscious Draculoid sitting beside Yaz,

“He stirred, yet?”

She shook her head.

“We hit him pretty hard,” she said, “I think he's got a concussion.”

“What if we killed him?” Ryan interjected.

“We didn't kill him,” the Doctor said, “His head barely tapped the floor.”

The three exchanged glances.

“Actually, Doc,” Graham coughed, “It hit pretty hard.”

“Yeah...there might have been a cracking sound,” Yaz shook her head, “And he's not responding to anything. Touch, sound...”

“Oh, we definitely killed him,” Ryan said, eyes wide as he stared at the floor.

Panicked, the Doctor rushed over and knelt down in front of him,

“Fun Ghoul? Fun Gh--er--Joe, can you hear me? It's the Doctor? If you can hear me, I need you to open your eyes!”

Yaz was right. He wasn't responding. She eyed him carefully, noted the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing, at least.

“We really did hit him hard, didn't we?”

“Should we call for help?” Graham suggested, “Maybe that guy? Greg, was it?”

“No, they won't help us,” the Doctor said, placing a hand on either side of his head, “Besides, there's no time.”

She closed her eyes. The trio watched on, stunned as the Doctor's hands began to glow.

After a minute, she pulled back, hearing Joe audibly gasp. He opened his eyes and looked around.

“Where am I?” he asked, “Who the hell are you people?”

“Trapped in a freezer, firstly,” the Doctor said, “But we're all friends here, secondly, and I think that's the important take away.”

“I don't know any of you,” Fun Ghoul snarled, “How do I know you're not part of the Resistance?”

“You mean the Killjoys?” the Doctor said, “Em, well. Funny story, we actually are. And you are, too. You just can't remember it, right now.”

To that, Fun Ghoul snorted,

“Is that a joke?”

“Is what a joke?” the Doctor said, “Your name is Fun Ghoul. You're one of the Fabulous Killjoys, one of four, in fact. Greg out there? He's another. His name's Jet Star, and he can't remember, either, but he is! You both are! Kobra Kid and Party Poison are still MIA, but I'm gonna find them, too, and when I have you all back together, you will remember who you are! I promise! I just have to figure out how everyone got so screwed up--”

“Well, that's easy. The Killjoys are all dead,” Fun Ghoul scoffed, “They went extinct after the Helium War. We annihilated them.”

The Doctor shook her head,

“No, you couldn't have. Greg, Ozzie, and Val? They're all Killjoys and they're all upstairs--”

“Yeah, and they're the _only_ ones,” Fun Ghoul laughed, “3 pathetic rebels left out of a dozen. Hardly what I'd call _fabulous_ \--”

“There were more on the list the Director read to us--”

“Yeah, 6. And three of them were confirmed dead this morning. I should know,  _I_ confirmed them.”

Her face fell as she stepped back from him, eyes vacant and locked on the floor.

Fun Ghoul laughed,

“Wiped that smug little grin off your face, didn't it? Suppose you're right. I _am_ a Killjoy.”

“Shut up,” Yaz barked, hopping up from her seat.

She stepped over to the Doctor and placed a hand on her arm, leading her aside,

“Doctor? You okay?”

The Doctor shook her head,

“No, I'm not. I am not o- _fucking_ -kay, Yaz.”

Shoving her away, the Doctor stormed over to Fun Ghoul and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, slamming him hard against the wall. Ryan and Graham both jumped.

“Whoa, Doc,” Graham said, “Take it easy--”

“Alright, you've had your laugh,” the Doctor seethed, “But play time's over, now. You're gonna start talking, or you're gonna be very sorry that you didn't--”

“And what are you gonna do?” Fun Ghoul sneered, “Tickle me to death?”

She slammed him against the wall again and he let out a cry as she pushed her fists against his throat,

“Does that feel like a tickle?”

“Doctor,” Yaz called, but her cry fell on deaf ears.

“Do you know what I am, _Joe?_ "the Doctor snarled, "Do you know what I can do to a little worm like you?”

Fun Ghoul stared her down silently as she pressed onward.

“I'm a Time Lord. An alien from the planet Gallifrey. I'm 5000 years old, give or take 4.5 billion years, and I've learned a thing or two on my way around the Universe. Mainly this...”

She pressed the tip of her pinky to his neck and smiled,

“Are we still laughing?”

“Doctor,” Ryan said, taking a step toward her, “I-I think you made your point. You can come off him, now...”

“You see, you're not the only one who's been through a war, _Joe,_ ” the Doctor continued, “I've done my share of bad things on the battlefield, too, in a far bigger war than you can even wrap your head around. Things so nasty, in fact, they'd make you toes curl. For instance...”

She pushed her pinky further in to Fun Ghoul's skin and he winced.

“Do you feel that? That's the tippy, tippy, tip of my pinky finger. And using only this, if I press any harder, right here in this spot? You'll be dead in seconds--”

“Doctor, stop!” Yaz cried. The Doctor ignored her.

“Do I have your attention, now?”

“Y-You're lying,” Joe stuttered, “You're full of shit.”

“Am I?” the Doctor shifted, acting as if she would continue to dig her pinky in. Fun Ghoul flinched.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I wanna know what's happened to my boys. Party Poison, Kobra Kid, Fun Ghoul, and Jet Star. Where are they?”

“I don't know,” Fun Ghoul insisted, “I've never heard of them!”

“ENGH,” the Doctor screamed, “WRONG ANSWER, JOE! Question two! What are the dragons? Where are they coming from?”

“I-I don't know,” he squeaked, pressing himself further back against the wall, “They just appeared one day!! Started eating everything in sight!!! Our rayguns and bazookas....nothing works on them!! We're just sitting ducks!!”

“Where did they come from?” the Doctor repeated, voice raised angrily.

“I just told you!! I don't know!!”

“Doc,” Graham said, “This is gettin' out of hand, all right? Why don't you just let him go? Cool down. Walk it off--”

“Shut up, Graham,” the Doctor spat, slamming Fun Ghoul against the wall a third time.

“Th-the desert,” Fun Ghoul continued, “That's as far as we've gotten. If I knew exactly where they were coming from, I'd tell you, but I swear, I don't know!”

“See?" the Doctor smiled, "That wasn't so hard, was it? Now, I'll ask my first question, again, and we'll see if you're more cooperative this time then you were last...”

She lifted him off the floor, finger pressed hard against his neck as he squirmed beneath her grasp.

“Kobra Kid. Where is he?” she asked.

Fun Ghoul shook his head.

“Fun Ghoul? That should be an easy one. Tried looking in a mirror?”

Again, he shook his head.

“And I suppose you still don't know Jet Star, either?”

The answer was the same.

“What about Party Poison, then,” the Doctor said, staring up into his wide, brown eyes, “What about Michael, where is he?”

Fun Ghoul swallowed hard,

“I am telling you those names were never on our list. They don't exist. They never did!”

To that, the Doctor calmly shook her head and sighed,

“Wrong answer, Joe.”

Before she could even move a muscle, a muffled roar rang out above and she dropped him promptly.

“Are those the...?” Ryan began, trailing off as another roar rattled the frame of the house.

“Dragons?” Yaz finished.

The Doctor froze. The screeching burned through her brain, echoing and ringing almost like an old, dial up modem.

A modem? No. More like.

_A telephone._

Turning to Yaz, she held out her hand urgently,

“Yaz, give me your phone.”

“What for?” Yaz asked warily.

“Just give it to me,” the Doctor demanded, “Now!”

Yaz quickly handed it over.

With a deep breath, the Doctor hit the call button and placed it on speaker.

There was no dial tone, but instead, a man's voice, old and static-ridden, and playing in a loop.

**“ _Watson, come here. I need you.”_**

Yaz frowned,

“Doctor? Who is that?”

“Alexander Graham Bell,” the Doctor said, “Very first phone call ever made.”

She handed the phone back to Yaz and ran over to the wall to take a peek through the only window in the cellar. Past the bars she could see them, three black, winged creatures, closing the distance and fast. Each one had a tail that looked like a sickle.

“They're not dragons,” she breathed, crestfallen, “They're Reapers.”

“Reapers?” Ryan repeated.

“This timeline...it's definitely been corrupted. It must have something to do with the boys disappearing,” the Doctor began “And those creatures are taking advantage. They feast on the wound. Vultures of time and space...”

The Doctor swallowed hard as she turned to the others,

“And we're the carcass.”

 

* * *

 

**A/N: Dark!13 gives me life. I need it in canon.**

_**Get on it, Chibnall!!** _

 


	5. Disenchanted

A silence fell upon the room, broken only by the horrific screeching of the Reapers outside.

“Well,that's a lovely picture you've painted for us and all,  _Da Vinci,_ ” Graham sighed, “Now, what are we gonna do about it?”

The Doctor bowed her head. Yaz stepped over to her, cautiously touching her arm,

“Doctor?”

The Doctor shook her head, slowly meeting eyes with Yaz,

“Short of finding out what happened to cause all of this? There's nothing we  _can_ do. And there's especially nothing we can do if I don't have my screwdriver.”

“Or the TARDIS,” Ryan chimed in.

“Oi, don't encourage her,” Graham scoffed, “I'm not here for all this doom and gloom, Doc. There's gotta be something we can do to fix this!”

“For starters, we can get out of here,” Yaz said, pulling a bobby pin from her hair. Marching over to the door, She knelt down and shoved it into the lock, wiggling it carefully.

“You can pick the lock?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah,” Yaz said, “I mean...I haven't done in a long time. I might not be able...”

The door clicked and she turned the handle, grinning ear to ear,

“Nevermind. Spoke too soon.”

“All right, Yaz!” the Doctor squealed, turning to Graham and Ryan, then, “You two, grab Joe. Let's get a shift on. Maybe all hope isn't lost, after all.”

 

~ø~

 

 

“Greg, put the kids in the van,” Ozzie commanded, pulling back from the window, “Get them as far away from the  _Stargate_  as humanly possible. There's an abandoned church in Zone 4 that should do. If not, keep going. Hit the red line and don't look back. All the way to Zone 6, if you gotta.”

“But the air out in Zone 6 is too thick, Ozzie,” Greg protested, “We don't have enough re-breathers for all of them! And without that--”

“Would you rather the dragons eat them, then?” Ozzie snapped.

“He's right, though, Oz,” Val sighed, “If he takes the kids out there, they're all gonna choke. Zone 6 is a death sentence.”

“Well, it's better than the alternative, isn't it?” Ozzie said.

“Ozzie--”

“Look, I know,” Ozzie sighed, looking to both of them in desperation, “Nothing about this is ideal. But let's face it. We've hit the end of the line. We can't run from them anymore! We can't even fight back, they're fucking invincible! We're living on borrowed time, at this point, and I would much rather those sweet little faces meet their maker in a calm, quiet way then be torn to shreds with their guts painting the desert, wouldn't you?”

“I've got a better idea.”

The three turned to see the Doctor standing behind them, company in tow, hands in her pockets as she walked confidently toward them,

“Let us help. We can figure out a solution together.”

Val quickly drew his gun and aimed for her head.

“One more step,  _Houdini_ , and I'll blow your fucking brains out.”

“I really don't think you wanna do that,” the Doctor said.

“Oh? And why wouldn't I?”

“Because,” she said, looking directly at Ozzie, “The dragons? I know what they are. What they  _really_  are. And I know how to stop them. For good.”

“Bullshit--”

“Actually, no, mate,” Ryan said, “She's telling the truth.”

“Did I ask you,  _Boy Wonder_?” Val snapped, turning the gun toward him.

Graham stepped between them, shaking his head,

“Just listen to her, all right? The Doc knows what she's talking about. C'mon, what could it hurt?”

“Nah,” Val snorted, “I'm done listening _\--_ ”

“Val.”

Val paused as Ozzie reached over and put a hand on his gun.

“Stand down.”

“You're not actually buying this shit, are you? Oz?”

Ozzie stepped toward the Doctor, arms folded over her chest.

“You said you know how to beat them? The dragons?”

The Doctor nodded.

“So...my kids don't have to die?”

“No one has to die,” the Doctor said, “And nobody else will if you just trust me.”

Biting her lip, Ozzie nodded and after a tense moment of thought, turned to Val and Greg.

“Val, you go with Greg. Take the kids to the old church in Zone 4. I'll join you when we're done.”

“Oz, are you crazy!?” Val scoffed, “You can't possibly trust her! She's lying! If our guns don't work on those things--”

“But I do trust her, Val. What other choice do we have? Extinction?”

“Oz--”

“You and Greg take the kids to the church,” she repeated, taking his hands in hers, “I will meet you. I swear.”

The Doctor cringed as Ozzie pulled him into a rather passionate kiss. As he pulled away, he turned to the Doctor, scowling darkly,

“If anything happens to her, and I mean  _anything,_  I will hunt you down and burn you, Doctor. You understand?”

The Doctor nodded shortly,

“Yes, sir.”

With a snarl, Val reluctantly turned to Greg and the two headed for the door. He gave one final glance to Ozzie before disappearing from sight.

“All right,” Ozzie said, “Spill it. What are they? How do we get rid of them?”

“For starters,” the Doctor said, “I heard you talking about a Stargate. What is that?”

“It's the spawning point,” Ozzie said, “On the border between Zone 2 and Zone 1, by Battery City's West Gate, there's some kind of...portal. That's where the dragons are coming from.”

“Right,” the Doctor nodded, “Take us there.”

“But that's a--”

“--Deathwish?” the Doctor finished, hearing the roaring closing in, “So, is staying put. If we wanna live, we have to go to that Rift and we have to figure out a way to close it. That's how we stop this.”

Reluctantly, Ozzie nodded, and snatching her mask up from the coffee table, turned and led them to the front door.

“This way.”

Upon throwing open the door, the group paused as they were met by a black, winged mask floating just outside the door. Just as quickly as she'd opened it, Ozzie the door shut, pressing herself firmly back against it,

“'Kay, maybe not that way.”

“Is there a back exit?” Yaz asked as they hurried back through the hovel.

“Yeah,” Ozzie said, running to the back window. There were four dragons in total, circling the house. Two had taken to following the van.

“They gonna be okay?” Graham asked.

Ozzie nodded shortly,

“They better be. But what about us?”

The Doctor stepped up beside her and looked for herself. More Reapers were approaching.

“Say, Oz,” she said, “You remember that little device I had when you brought us here. You don't happen to remember where you put it, do you?”

Ozzie quickly reached into her coat and pulled out the sonic,

“You mean this?”

“Yeah,” the Doctor said, eyes alight as she excitedly took it back, “Exactly this.”

Kissing it's glowing crystal tip, she rushed to the far window and peeked through the blinds. There were no dragons circling that side, at least not yet. It was a clear shot to the graffiti-less Trans Am parked beside Destroya.

“All right, gang,” the Doctor said, turning and heading through the kitchen to a side exit, “I'm gonna need you to trust me. When I count to three, you get to the car. I'll be right behind you.”

“But Doc--” Graham protested, but she quickly cut him off.

“I'll be right behind you,” she said, glancing between them. Her eyes ended up locking with Yaz's.

“You promise?” Yaz pressed.

The Doctor nodded.

“Cross my hearts,” she said.

On the count of three, the Doctor threw open the door, and ran out into the blinding desert sun. She waved the others to the car, darting around the house to where the dragons were congregating. With a whistle, she waved her arms about frantically, hopping and jumping and doing her damnedest to garner their attention.

“Oi,  _Dragontales_! Over here!!”

Yaz spun around upon hearing the Doctor's shout and started toward her,

“What is she doing--!?”

“Luring them away,” Ozzie said, quickly grabbing her and dragging her back toward the car, “So, we can escape. C'mon!”

“No,” Yaz shouted, pushing Ozzie away, “I'm not leaving without her!”

She bolted around Ozzie, tearing across sand and gravel as fast as her feet could carry her,

“Doctor!”

Looking up from the side door, Ryan rounded the car and frantically tore after her,

“Yaz!”

Graham, who had just finished securing a zip-tied Joe in the backseat, popped up as Ryan passed him, eyes wide,

“Now, what are you doing!?”

The Doctor tensed as the Reapers turned her way, each one letting out a warbled screech,

“That's it...come to Mama...”

“Doctor!”

Hearing the shout from behind her, the Doctor spotted both Yaz and Ryan coming up on her fast.

“What are you two doing!?” she shrieked, “Get back to the car!!”

The Reapers turned upon seeing Yaz and Ryan, and readied their scythe-like tails to attack. Quickly, the Doctor placed herself between them, and thrust her sonic screwdriver out to the side. The crystal spun and began to glow, and as the Reapers fast approached, the Doctor squeezed shut her eyes. She couldn't bear to watch herself be eaten.  _Again._

 

_CLANG. CLUNK. CREAAAAAK._

 

She jumped, eyes jolting open in shock to see a gigantic hand, red paint eaten away by rust and the sands of time.

Creaking and groaning as ancient metals rubbed together, Destroya rose up from the ground, raining sand and clumps of grass down onto the Trans Am beside it. Ozzie watched in awe as it effortlessly grabbed the Reapers in one swoop and squeezed them tight. They tried to escape, shrieking and squeaking until finally they vanished in a brilliant flash of light.

“Bet they didn't see that coming, did they?” the Doctor grinned, looking down at the screwdriver, “Ancient alien technology. Older than this whole solar system. They'll have it tough getting through you, won't they?”

The robot turned and looked down at her, eyes glowing bright green. She smiled,

“I've got a favour to ask, now that you're up from your nap. There's a church a few miles away, out in a place called Zone 4. There's a van full of children headed there. Could you keep an eye on 'em for me? Keep them safe?”

The robot nodded. The Doctor smiled,

“Thank you, Destroya.”

Slowly, Destroya turned and headed in the same direction as the others had. The ground trembled with every step it took. Shooting a dirty look to both Yaz and Ryan, the Doctor pushed passed them, and headed to the car,

“Let's go.”

Ozzie stood frozen by the driver's side door, gaping in shock at the fleeing robot.

“That was...”

She turned to the Doctor, mouth gaping in shock,

“Th-That was...!”

“Yep,” the Doctor smirked.

Opening the passenger's side door, she let Graham and Yaz climb in first. Then got in the passenger's seat. Ryan squeezed in beside Joe on the opposite side of the car, so uncomfortably close that they were practically cheek to cheek. As soon as everyone was comfortable, or at least as comfortable as one could get within these circumstances, the Doctor turned to Ozzie with a stern glare.

“Hit the redline,Oz,” she said, “Take us to the Wizard.”

Gripping tight to the wheel, Ozzie nodded, and turned the key as hard as she could before slamming her foot down on the gas. The car roared to life, zipping off at 90mph before the Doctor could even blink.

 

~ø~

 

Val paced outside of the church, gun in hand as he nervously eyed the horizon.

“Val, c'mon,” Greg called, “The air's getting thicker. You should get inside!”

“I'm fine,” Val said, “It's not that bad out.”

“Not yet,” Greg said, “But it's gonna get up to 90% tonight. You'll suffocate out here without a rebreather.”

Val remained silent.

“I know you're worried about her,” Greg sighed, “But standing out here, waiting for her to come back while you code blue is not the answer.”

“You know what, Greg?” Val said finally, holstering his gun, “You're right.”

Turning suddenly, Val reached in and snatched the keys to the van from Greg's pocket, as well as the ray gun from his belt.

“Don't follow me,” he warned as he aimed the gun at Greg's chest. He turned and bolted to the van, hopping into the driver's seat, tires squealing into the night.

 

~ø~

 

The pure, white Trans Am came screeching to a halt minutes later, in front of what appeared to be swirling, glowing wormhole spanning several widths. Upon stopping, the Doctor practically flung herself out of the car, grumbling as the others climbed out after her.

“I do  _not_  like it when Ozzie drives,” she said, “I do  _not_  feel safe when Ozzie drives!”

“Aww, c'mon, Doctor,” Ozzie laughed, “You liked it a little bit.”

Glancing back over her shoulder, the Doctor met eyes with Ozzie and cracked a tiny smile, then quickly shook her head,

“No. I really didn't.”

“Sure,” Ozzie said, a shot her a wink.

“So, that's it, then?” Ryan said, gesturing to the rift. Heat rippled off of it, causing the surrounding area to appear wavy and warped. On occasion, a lightning bolt cracked out of it and licked the ground, creating burn marks in the asphalt that almost resembled tire tracks.

“Seems safe,” he nodded.

Approaching the rift, the Doctor calmly, calculatedly, raised an arm and scanned it with her sonic.

The readings were off the charts.

“You said this opened up a few days ago?” the Doctor asked, turning on her heel, “And the Reapers came out of it?”

“Yeah,” Ozzie said, “It wasn't here until they showed up.”

“But did anyone actually see them come out of it?” the Doctor asked, “Witness it first hand?”

“Well, no--”

“Didn't think so,” the Doctor said, “Reapers don't come through fixed portals like this. They don't need to. There more precise with where and how they attack. More focused. This is something else.”

“What kind of something else?” Yaz asked.

The Doctor walked up to the portal, side stepping a bolt of lightning that suddenly shot out. The group jumped and a voice called from the car.

“Uh, hey? What the fuck are you doing?”

Graham glanced back to see Joe sticking his head out of the window, and wagged a finger at him,

“Zip it, you!”

“It looks like she's gonna stick her hand in there!”

“Well, maybe she is! You got a problem with that?”

“Me? No,” Joe began, “I don't got a problem. I just figured you guys might, seeing as it ripped five of my guys to shreds the other day. But what do I know, right? Your funeral.”

Graham turned back to see what the Doctor was in fact going to do. Sure enough, she reached out and dipped her hand straight into the portal. Yaz cried out as the Doctor let out an anguished scream and quickly yanked herself away. She fell to the ground, curling up in the fetal position.

“You know, I hate to say I told you so,” Joe sighed, “You know what? Nah, actually. I love saying that.”

Yaz was the first to reach her. Kneeling down beside her, she gently touched the Doctor's shoulder, shaking her head,

“Let me see.”

“It's fine,” the Doctor grunted.

Ryan knelt down spying a glimpse of burned sleeve,

“Doctor...your hand...”

Ozzie rushed over and immediately forced her way in, shoving the Doctor onto her back to reveal the wound.

Her entire hand was gone, leaving behind a charred and raggedy sleeve in it's wake.

Graham gasped as he rushed over, covering his mouth.

“Oh my stars,” he breathed.

Quickly removing her belt, Ozzie nodded to Ryan and Yaz,

“Get her up.”

They did so without a word. The Doctor let out another yelp as Ozzie tied the belt tight around her arm like a sling, growling through her teeth almost angrily,

“I'm telling you...I'm fine! Really!”

“You're not fine, Doctor,” Ozzie said, “You're in shock.”

Rising to her feet, she turned to Graham and sighed,

“We have to get her back to the church. Greg's a better medic than I am. He can patch her up.”

“We are not leaving,” the Doctor howled.

“No?” Ozzie whirled on her heel, ponytail whipping her in the cheek, “Then, pray tell, where  _are_ we going, Doctor?”

The Doctor pointed with her remaining hand to the portal.

Yaz, Ryan, and Graham exchanged glances.

Ozzie laughed,

“After what just happened to your arm? You're a fucking lunatic!”

“Maybe I am,” the Doctor shouted back, “But if we don't do something, all those kids you just sent off to that church die tonight!”

Ozzie fell silent.

The Doctor flinched as she adjusted her arm in the sling.

“You know I'm right,” she said.

“But what does this portal have to do with them Reapers, Doc?” Graham asked.

The Doctor snorted, and motioned back for the worm hole,

“This portal appeared when they did, but it's not the spawning point,” the Doctor asked, “So, what is it, then? Why is it here? Maybe whatever it is that made it is the reason the Reapers were able to get in in the first place!”

“So, you want us to just what,” Ozzie scoffed, “Go running inside! We'll be killed!”

“Well, normally, running is the idea,” the Doctor said with a smile, “But why use our legs when we have a car?”

She started back for the Trans Am to Joe's immediate protest.

“Oh, no,” he shrieked, “You're not taking me in there! That's inhumane!!”

“You literally kill people for playing their music to loud,” the Doctor said blankly.

Joe stared back.

“Yeah, well...we give 'em a warning shot first.”

“To the back of the head?”

Joe slumped back in his seat and said nothing more.

Ozzie hesitantly walked back to the driver's side, making her eye contact with the Doctor as scarce as possible.

The Doctor sighed,

“The plan is to go as fast as you can through the portal, right? While I use my sonic to reverse the polarity of the wormhole, which should reduce the amount of damage taken to the car.”

“And if it doesn't work?” Ozzie asked.

“We'll be porkchops,” Joe chimed in.

The Doctor hissed at him and slammed her knee against the door.

“It will work, Oz,” the Doctor assured, “Trust me.”

Ozzie glanced at the others.

“Do they?” she asked.

The Doctor turned around, glancing first at Ryan, then Graham, and then finally, Yaz. None of them looked very reassured, in particular Yaz, whose eyes were locked on the dusty pavement. She walked over to her, taking on of her hands in hers,

“Yaz? You trust me? Don't you?”

For a moment, Yaz said nothing.

“Yaz?” the Doctor pressed again, softer this time.

Finally, Yaz nodded and offered a smile,

“Yeah. Of course.”

But her smile was uneasy. Choosing to ignore it, the Doctor turned and waved them to the car,

“All right, then, fam! Let's take a gander through the looking glass, shall we?”

Settling into the car, everyone buckled there seat belts as Ozzie revved the engine.

The Doctor readied the screwdriver on the dash, making sure her remaining hand stayed ready and aimed at the portal.

“I really don't get a say in this?” Joe groaned.

They all turned to him, barking sharply,

“No!”

With one last look to the others, Ozzie met eyes with the Doctor, who nodded.

“Alright then,  _killjoys_ ,” she huffed, tightly gripping the wheel, “Let's make some noise.”

Slamming her foot down on the gas, the tires let out a squeal and the car shot off at 88mph.

The Doctor activated her screwdriver as the car passed through the crackling, blue energy, the metal beginning to bang and dent around them.

As they ventured further in the doors began to press inward, as if being compressed.

“We're gonna be crushed,” Graham hollered, suddenly uncomfortably close to Joe as the car continued to squeeze at them.

The T Tops and windshield cracked. Ozzie tensed and glanced over at the Doctor,

“Are we there yet!?”

“Just ten more minutes!” the Doctor replied with a smile.

She glanced over at Ozzie's horrified face.

“Right,” she said, “No time for jokes! Sorry!”

Yaz let out a yelp as the door pushed inward, pinning her leg to Ozzie's seat,

“Doctor!!”

A few seconds more and they'd be pulverized.

They all jumped at the sound of a loud boom, and emerged from the portal into a foggy, city night.

Before anyone could blink, Ozzie slammed on the breaks and skidded to a halt, turning the wheel sharply to avoid colliding with another car. As they came to a complete stop, the group was silent for a moment. Finally the Doctor looked into the back seat and nodded,

“See? Everything's fine, innit? And you lot were worried!”

They all exchanged annoyed glances. Carefully, the Doctor stepped out of the car to get a better look at their surroundings. Her hearts stopped. Just a few feet away from them sat another Trans Am, caked in graffiti. It's most prominent feature from this angle was the spider on the hood. Dashing toward it, she felt a smile hit her lips,

“They're here!”

Reaching the car, she spied the Polaroid on the dashboard, and the strange cat-like head dangling from the rear view mirror.

“My boys,” she breathed, racing on across the bridge toward the looming building in the distance.

She didn't even wait for the others.

As she made the approach, she failed to note the oddities that her team would notice as they warily followed after her. The rain for instance, had stopped falling mid-air. There was no wind, either, not even a slight breeze. The clouds weren't moving. Everything had stopped. She would come to realise this though, as she entered the infamous lobby and nearly charged head first into a frozen laser beam. Her eyes went wide as she looked around. All of time had stopped.

Her eyes wandered first to Fun Ghoul, gliding across the floor. Jet Star had stopped by Girl, guarding her from an approaching Draculoid. And Kobra Kid...

She replayed the tape in her mind. Kobra Kid had tried to stop Korse from firing the shot.

_The_  shot.

The shot that would kill Party Poison.

And looking up, that's where she found him, mid-run, gun raised, look of hopeless desperation on his face.

She followed his eyeline, bracing herself for what she would find.

And there, pinned against the wall, gun pressed to his chin…..was actually no one.

He was gone.

 

Party Poison had completely vanished.

 

* * *

 

A/N: Sorry it's a bit late! But it's here, now, and I have to be up at 5am, so if there's a lot of weird typos, that's why. lol


	6. The Lights We Chase

“That's impossible,” the Doctor breathed.

She didn't even notice when the others had caught up. They entered the lobby behind her, even Joe, whom Graham was dragging by the collar of his jacket.

“I really could have waited back in the car, you know,” he said, “I would have stayed put, scout's honor.”

Graham shushed him.

“Doctor,” Yaz said, looking around at the frozen fire fight. It was as if someone had hit pause in the middle of a TV show, everyone frozen in place. Even the laser beams.

The Doctor continued to examine the spot where Party Poison should have been, running her hand over the wall, pawing at it like a lost puppy.

“I don't understand,” she said, shaking her head, “He should be here. Right here! But there's nothing! He's gone! He's just...vanished.”

“Maybe the dragons ate him,” Ryan said solemnly.

“Doubtful,” the Doctor said, scanning the spot with the screwdriver, “More likely it's why they're here in the first place.”

She scanned the whole area, each Draculoid and each Killjoy, ending with Fun Ghoul.

“I don't get it. It's like time has just...stopped.”

“Keen observation, Captain Obvious,” Joe mumbled.

“No, I mean,” the Doctor began, scratching her head with her remaining hand, “Oh, I don't know what I mean!”

“Like someone did the stopping?” Ozzie asked, “It didn't just stop on it's own?”

The Doctor whirled around, coat flaps _thwapping_ at her calves as she jabbed a finger in her direction,

“Yes! Exactly! That's what I meant. Perfect, Oz. Beautiful, Oz!”

Oz glanced over at the others, chest puffed up as she grinned. Yaz said nothing. Ryan rolled his eyes. Graham just sighed.

And Joe had become strangely preoccupied with his doppelganger, frozen mid-slide.

“Someone did this,” the Doctor continued, “This was deliberate. But who? Who would do this? And why? And why would one man's disappearance cause such a ruckus?”

She hurried back over to the spot where Party Poison should have been and carefully pulled a marker from the folds of her coat. Graham shook his head as she plucked the lid off with her teeth and unceremoniously spat it to the floor.

“No, not this, again!”

He stepped away from Joe and started across the lobby toward her,

“Can't we just use our words, Doc? That's what we have mouths for, innit? You don't have to go around vandalizing everything in sight!”

“I do when I need to visualise something,” she replied, pressing tip to plaster.

She started with an _'x'_ ,

“Alright, so Michael was born in 1992,” she said, promptly writing the year atop the first _'x'_ , then added a line, “And he died in 2019. Well....sort of dies.”

She added _2019_ to the drawing.

“A few months ago, when I first met him, he was captured by the Weeping Angels and sent back to 1940 where he spent 6 years of his life. Fought a war, started a family, the whole shebang...”

“Weeping 'what'?” Ryan asked.

The Doctor ignored him, continuing on.

“He tricked me into coming to pick him up, which I did, and when I saw him again, he nearly got wiped from existence when a rogue Cyberman killed his father, Cherri-Cola, in the future.”

“I thought you said he was born in 1992?” Yaz asked, “How could his father have died in the _future_ if he was born in 1992 and you met him in 2019?”

The Doctor paused,

“Oh, you're right...sorry, it's been a while. He was _adopted_ in 1992. Born sometime after 2031. Not sure when. Brain tends to get a bit foggy after 4.5 billion years.”

She added in 2031, then drew a connecting line to 1992. Graham frowned,  
“Wait...did you say _4.5 billion –?_ ”

“He was adopted in 1992 when he and his mother were sent back there by the Weeping Angels, which started the cycle in the first place,” the Doctor continued, cutting him off, “And after Michael died in 2019, he was resurrected by the Madam Director and made into a Draculoid, where he stayed for 12 years, until finally breaking free when Girl saved the city in 2031.”

“Who's _Girl_?” Ryan asked.

The Doctor turned and nodded to the little girl standing at the centre of the chaos,

“The boys gave their lives saving her. And after they died, she ran off into the desert, disappearing for 12 years until she raised Destroya and freed Battery City from BLIndustries mind control.”

Ozzie turned and took a good hard look at the child. There was something familiar about her, but she couldn't place her finger on what.

“After the fall,” the Doctor continued, “Michael reconnected with Girl, started getting his memories back. Life was hunky dory, and then...”

She drew another arrow, leading back to a _2013_ marker.

“The Weeping Angels struck again, sending Girl and her baby back to 1992 while dumping him off in 2013, where he joined the resistance under a new name.”

She scrawled the name _Dr. Death Defying_ on the board, then stood back and looked it all over.

“So, hold on, Doc,” Graham began, “You said these Angel things? They took Girl and her baby to 1992? Isn't that the same year Michael and his mother were taken to?”

“Yep,” she said. She then turned and nodded, offering a smile, “Oh, right! I forgot to mention, Girl is Michael's mum. Slipped again.”

Graham nodded,

“Well. That's not confusing, at all.”

As per usual, the Doctor ignored his comment and scratched her head.

“Michael became Dr. Death Defying... put the boys in charge of watching over Girl after she was born. And that's it. He tried to persuade certain outcomes in events using his broadcasts but it didn't work he told me that much...but that's the end of the story.”

“D'you think it was the Weeping Angels, then?” Ryan asked, “Could they do something like this?”

“No,” the Doctor shook her head, “I mean...they have the ability to snatch up entire landmasses but they can't stop time to physically remove someone from their timeline. They don't have that kind of technology.”

Scowling, the Doctor began to pace the floor and rubbed her temple in thought.

“C'mon, Doctor, think. Think, think, think...!”

“You sound like Winnie the Pooh when you do that,” Ryan laughed.

Ozzie knelt down in front of Girl, looking her over in concern. She clung to her little robot as tight as she could. If time were still moving, she'd have been shaking. She looked so frightened.

“They didn't give her a name,” Oz said.

The Doctor shook her head,

“No. S'ppose they were a bit preoccupied trying not to die.”

“She could have been an Allison,” Ozzie sighed, “Or a Grace. Or a Clara. And they just didn't bother?”

The Doctor's eyes widened at the name,

“What did you say?”

Ozzie frowned,

“What do you mean?”

“That name,” she continued, scurrying back over to Ozzie, “The last one you said. What was it?”

“Clara?”

The Doctor straightened. She looked around at the frozen room, hearts dropping into her stomach.

“Oh, dear. It's been right in front of my face this whole time.”

“What has?” Yaz asked.

Saying nothing, the Doctor, struggling with her pocket, pulled the screwdriver back out and scanned Girl.

She swallowed hard, locking eyes with Ozzie.

“I know what happened to Party Poison.”

 

~ø~

 

Exhaling slowly, Party Poison opened his eyes. Everyone and everything around him was frozen. Laser beams hung in the air, Draculoids halted mid-run. Fun Ghoul had apparently decided to attempt his best rendition of _Johnny B. Goode_ , but with a gun instead of a guitar. There was a strange haze about the room, a glitchy sort of white noise he could just barely see. It emitted a rainbow hue, and made his brain feel warm and hollow. What was going on?

_“Psst! Over here!!”_

 

He turned his head in the direction of that distant voice and saw a strange light coming from a slit in the middle of the room. He blinked hard. No, he wasn't imagining it. There was a slit hovering in the middle of the room a few feet away, as if someone had unzipped the air's proverbial fly. Carefully stepping away from Korse, he looked at the gun and saw that it was all lit up and ready to fire. He felt the underside of his chin, still warm from the nozzle.

 

_“Come on!”_ came the voice again, _“This way!!”_

 

Following the voice all the way to the glowing slit, Party Poison swallowed hard. The voice in his head told him not to go in. Every sensible bone in his body, for which there weren't too many, were telling him to stay away. But when was he known to listen to reason and sense? He shoved his hand into it first, feeling the light pulsing around it. It was vibrating. For a moment, he thought against going any further, thought it better to go back. But whatever was in store for him on the other side of the light had a different idea. Something firmly grabbed onto his hand, and he had no time to react before it dragged him through the humming portal.

At first, he couldn't see anything. Everything around him was white and humming. Finally, though, when things came back into focus, he found himself staring at a small woman, around 5'1'', with dark brown hair and a deep set dimple in her cheek as she flashed him a Cheshire grin.

“Clara?”

 


	7. THE NIGHTS WE STEAL

 

Party Poison couldn't believe his eyes. There, standing just mere feet in front of him, was Clara Oswald, all 5'1'' of her. She flashed him her biggest, pearliest grin and squealed,

“Surprise!”

“H-How,” he began, eyes still adjusting to the harsh, white room she'd brought him into.

“Never mind that! Just shut up and come here!”

Clara rushed forward and pulled him into a one armed hug, squeezing him tight and kissing his cheek.

“Ugh, it's been such a long time,” she said, pulling away with a grin, “I missed you _so_ much! And you look _great_! How've you been?”

He blinked blankly at her, mouth dropped open in shock.

“I was about to die,” he said.

She let out a snorting sort of laugh and knocked on her forehead,

“Right! Silly me. Don't worry, we're gonna fix that!”

“Fix it?”

“Yep,” she exclaimed, taking his hand, “I've got it all figured out. C'mon.”

She began to lead him through the room, weaving quite a bit. When his eyes finally came into focus, he understood why. The floor was littered with bodies.

And in her hand, she held the smoking gun.

Party Poison quickly pulled back, looking at them closely. Men and women both, some in all white, others in strangely elaborate capes, were all lying on the ground, motionless.

“Jesus Christ!” he cried, “Did you do this?”

Clara looked around, dumbfounded, and shrugged.

“Well, yeah. I don't just carry these things around for fun, you know?” she motioned to the gun in her hand.

“Are they dead?”

“No! Well, I mean...sort of,” she began, rubbing her neck awkwardly, “But it's fine! They're time lords! They'll regenerate.”

Party Poison shook his head, running his hands through his hair as he turned away from her.

“What the fuck is going on, right now? I should be dead...”

“Technically speaking, you are,” Clara said, “Just not...quite yet?”

Party Poison spun on his heel and frowned.

“What are you talking about?”

Setting the gun down on the floor, Clara wrung her hands and stepped over to him,

“You haven't noticed it, yet, have you?”

“Noticed what?”

“That bit of you that's missing? You don't feel it?”

“No, I don't feel it,” he said, “What the hell are talking about?”

Saying nothing, Clara reached up carefully and pressed her fingers hard against his neck. He frowned.

“What are you doing?”

“Just be quiet,” she said, “Just for a minute.”

He rolled his eyes at her request. At first, he noticed nothing different.

But then, he felt it, or rather, he felt the lack there of it.

For a whole minute, he counted, he felt a mysterious absence of a sound that he had lived with his whole life.

_His heart wasn't beating._

It left him speechless, breathless, even. Until of course, he realised he didn't even need his breath.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” he managed finally, voice choked to a whisper.

“Party Poison--”

“No,” he snapped, backing away from her, “What the _fuck_ did you do to me!?”

Clara shook her head and offered him a smile,

“Nothing that can't be fixed. Trust me!”

“Am I dead?” he demanded.

“Not yet--”

“ _Not yet_!? What the hell does that even mean!?”

“Party Poison--”

“What about the guys!? Are _they_ dead!? And Sweet Pea!? What about her!?”

“Would you just shut up and listen to me for one second!?”

He stiffened his jaw as she approached, wary of the grin on her face.

“Nobody is dead,” Clara said, “And if we play our cards right? No one has to be.”

 

~ø~

 

“I should have known,” the Doctor continued, barely able to tear her eyes away from Oz, “Of course it would be her. It's got her trademarks all over it.”

“What trademarks?” Oz shot back, rising to her feet, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This!” the Doctor motioned, sweeping her arms out around her, “The madness of it! The impossibility--!”

“Doctor,” Yaz shook her head, “You're not making any sense? Who is she? Who are you talking about?”

“A friend,” the Doctor said after a moment's pause, “A very old, very dear friend.”

“Where is she, then, Doc?” Graham asked, “We'll go have a chat with her, see if we can fix this mess.”

She turned back to the vacant spot in which Party Poison should have been, hearts racing,

“That's the problem. We can't just go have a chat with her.”

“Why not?” Ryan asked.

“Because, like Michael,” the Doctor began, reaching up and marking another spot on the calendar, centered on 2015,

“She died. A very long time ago.”

“Then, how can she be behind this?”

“I don't know,” the Doctor cried, taking a poll of her hair, “When I last saw her, she wiped my memory...and I-I woke up in the desert with a diner and the waitress--”

A light bulb. Looking directly at Oz, the Doctor shook her head, eyes wide,

“The diner was the TARDIS. That's why it disappeared. She never went back to the street!”

A smile swept over her face, and tears of relief filled her eyes as she shuddered with joyous laughter. Within seconds her face fell, and she looked to Yaz, Graham, and Ryan, shaking her head,

“She never went back to the street.”

“You said that, Doc,” Graham assured her, “Repeatin' it don't make it clearer.”

“The Reapers!” the Doctor said, “Clara pulled Party Poison from his timeline at the moment he was supposed to die! And I--”

She hesitated, averting her gaze from them as she spoke,

“And I pulled Clara from hers. The two of them together in the same spot, not where they are supposed to be? That would be enough to weaken the timeline, cause it to rupture! Allow the Reapers in!”

“Yeah, there's only one problem with that, sweet cheeks,” Joe called, still thoroughly inspecting Fun Ghoul.

The Doctor rolled her eyes at him and sighed,

“What now, Joe?”

“Now, this is of course, assuming I believe everything I'm seeing is real and not some concussion-induced fever dream,” Joe began, walking between the laser beams and frozen players, “This chick? She swiped your boy and put the Universe on pause, right?”

“Yeah,” the Doctor nodded, “Go on.”

“Well, her timeline? It's be on pause, too, correct? If nobody's timeline is going forward, then shouldn't we all be stuck? Frozen like them?”

The Doctor frowned,

“You know, what, Joe, I think you might be on to something.”

“Thank you,” Joe said, “So, why does that Johnny Weir-wannabe, grease-ball Killjoy over there have my fucking face? I would never wear colour, especially not green and yellow! It's bad for my complexion.”

Ignoring him, the Doctor walked back over to the chart and looked at it again.

“We've splintered.”

She drew a branch extending from 2019, and created a circle around the word 'Splinter',

“Oz, the time you come from is a pocket, a splinter from the real Universe. Sometimes, when things go wrong, these pockets form as a sort of bandaid to patch up the time stream, keep things progressing as they should. Things that are supposed to happen will still happen, but only if the splinter is repaired.”

“So, this friend of yours,” Yaz began, “If she goes back to her timeline, we'll all still meet each other?”

“Yes, exactly,” the Doctor said, “History will happen as it was meant to happen as if the splinter never existed.”

“So, do all splinters look like this?” Ryan asked.

“Honestly, I've seen a splinter do this before,” the Doctor said, “Technically, you're not even supposed to notice the splinter. It's like a hiccup. One little spasm or two, then it all goes back to normal once the repairs are made. But this breech is so massive, it's as if the splinter is trying to write a whole new Universe from scratch. Now, why would it do that?”

“Maybe the first go wasn't good enough,” Joe snarled, shooting the stink eye at his frozen doppelganger.

“Or this isn't where the rupture occurs.”

The Doctor looked back at the frozen trio and the frightened girl in the centre of it all.

“Girl makes it out of this but just barely. The boys sacrifice their lives to get her out. The Madam Director revives Michael and wipes his memories, but 12 years from, now, he and Girl are reunited. Girl has her baby, the Angels take them away...Michael becomes Dr. Death Defying. Dr. Death Defying...who picks Girl up just outside those doors as the massacre ends! It's Dr. Death Defying! If Michael and the boys don't die here today, he's never resurrected, and if he's never resurrected, he never becomes Dr. Death Defying, and if he's never Dr. Death Defying, he'll never show up outside those doors to save Girl! Well, that's brilliant, if I do say so myself...!”

“I wouldn't,” Oz said, “Anyone else could hop in and save her in his absence. That would be a bandaid. And if that were the case, why is everything so different? Why does Greg have an eye patch? Why is Bela Lugosi over there a Killjoy? These aren't band aids, they're rewrites, like you said.”

She stepped over to Kobra Kid, motioning to all of him,

“I don't even know what to make of this guy! And that little girl? If the splinter truly is what you call a bandaid, shouldn't she be there, too?”

The Doctor paused,

“You mean, she isn't?”

“No,” Oz snorted, “I've never seen her before in my life!”

“Are you sure?” the Doctor pressed.

“Every kid that has passed through the Zones has been under my care at one point or another,” Oz said, “And I remember each and every one of them. I don't know her, Doctor. I've never seen her.”

“But you're her...” the Doctor trailed off, glancing back and forth between them.

She stopped, eyes going wide,

“And you don't know Dr. Death Defying, either? Or Party Poison?”

Oz shook her head,

“No. Neither of them. Or...neither of _him_ , I guess.”

The Doctor began pacing again.

“Kobra Kid disappeared last time, too. _And_ Fun Ghoul became a Draculoid. It all points back to Michael, somehow, but I can't...!”

She grabbed her hair and pulled it again, leaning back against the wall where Party Poison should have been standing.

Over Korse's shoulder, she could see Girl, and just a few feet away, Oz. They looked so much alike.

And Michael had looked so much like Girl.

“Cherri Cola existed in the splinter,” the Doctor breathed, “So, it's not him...it's Girl. She didn't vanish in the other time when Kobra Kid did...so that only leaves Michael. But that can't be right.”

The group looked on in confusion as the Doctor began to laugh. She laughed so hard, in fact, she began crying and snorting and eventually, she had to sit. Yaz made her way over, kneeling down next to her cautiously,

“Doctor? Are you okay?”

Finally getting a hold of herself, the Doctor nodded up and let out a sigh,

“Oh, yeah. I think I'm good, now, yeah.”

“What was so funny?” Ryan asked.

“Well, for a minute,” the Doctor stifled another fit of giggles and craned her head back against the wall, gazing up at Oz,

“I had this _crazy_ idea that because Michael and Girl are the only consistently absent parties from the splinter, that that must have meant that Dr. Death Defying was Girl's father! But that would mean that Michael's entire existence was built on an unstable paradox, and any hiccup, no matter how insignificant, could fracture the timeline beyond repair and lead to the end of the universe itself!”

The others exchanged awkward glances as she began to laugh again, tears streaming down her face as she wheezed.

“So, like,” Ryan snorted, “What you're saying is, he's his own granddad?”

The Doctor cackled harder, unable to speak.

“I think you're taking that _'Grandfather Paradox'_ theory a bit too literally, there, Doc,” Graham joked.

“But what if I'm not,” the Doctor said finally, her laughter stopping abruptly, “The battery farm...the angels had plenty of time to perfect it! What if they consolidated it, narrowed it down to one person who they could feed on forever and ever and ever in a perpetual loop? Crafting a source of time energy that would never run out or dry up because he was caught in a cycle of creating himself and he'll keep creating himself again and again and again into eternity?”

She sat up bolt straight, face sheet white at this point,

“Bad Wolf. The graffiti on the mailbox. She was trying to tell me! This whole time! Oh, Doctor you are such an _idiot_!”

She sprung to her feet, looking up at the timeline in horror,

“Michael is his own grandfather. And if he doesn't die today, he'll never be born!”

 

~ø~

 

“What do you mean, 'No one has to die'?” Party Poison asked, “How?”

“Cuz we're gonna save them, duh!” Clara quickly replied, “Stop this whole nightmare scenario from ever happening in the first place!”

Party Poison shook his head,

“No, no...that's impossible.”

“Well, they don't call me the Impossible Girl for nothing, do they?” Clara said, shooting him a wink.

He watched as she turned and headed toward the doorway, likely checking the halls for more of these 'timelords' she spoke of earlier. She turned back to him, nodding him on,

“C'mon, we should go before the cavalry comes.”

Hesitantly, Party Poison glanced back at the glowing entry way behind him. Girl was still in view at the centre of the room, squeezing tight her tiny robot as she cowered in fear. He felt a phantom flutter in his chest, a rush of hope that maybe Clara might be on to something. Maybe, just maybe, they could fix this. Maybe they could get it right.

Maybe no one had to die today, after all.

 

* * *

A/N: Y'all are saints for putting up with this crazy shit show, that's all I'm gonna put here. Love you guys. <3

 

 


	8. Anti-Matter For The Master Plan

 

_ November 18 _ _ th _ _ , 2019 – Dusk _

 

Girl kicked and screamed as Korse dragged her by the arm toward the car. She glanced back at the boys, all four lying unconscious in the dirt.

“Let me go!!” she called, “Poison, help!!”

“Fight this all you want, little one,” Korse said with a smirk, “There's no one coming to save you, now.”

They shoved her in the back and sped on down the road back toward the city.

“You're not gonna get away with this, you know,” Girl said, “You're gonna be really fucking sorry you crossed them--”

“Oh, I highly doubt it,” Korse chuckled.

A few moments into their drive, however, the strangest thing happened. A diner fell out of the sky, landing smack dab in the middle of the road. They skidded to a stop. Korse nodded to the Draculoid in the passenger seat.

“Call it in,” he commanded, then calmly climbed out of the car.

The door swung open as he approached and out stepped a young woman in a waitress outfit.

She smiled, holding a platter of water.

“Sure is hot out this evening,” she said, fanning herself, “You boys fancy a drink?”

Korse scowled at her. She was clearly meant to be a distraction. But a distraction for what?

_Or whom_?

A rustling from the brush behind him drew his attention a second too late, as a blue and red blur rushed toward him at full speed.

“ _SQUARE UP, MOTHER FUCKER_!!”

Came a shout, followed seconds later by a fist sinking into his face.

He stumbled backward to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust in the fall. As it settled, he was met with the fiery-haired visage of Party Poison. He smiled,

“All done with your nap, I see? That was quick.”

Party Poison stepped forward and drew his gun, aiming it directly at Korse's head.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn't ghost your sorry ass, right here, right now.”

The Dracs inside the car jumped out then, each one pointing a gun at Party Poison.

“Because _Party Poison,_ ” Korse laughed, “If you kill me? I'll have them kill _her._ ”

One of the Dracs reached in and pulled Girl from the car by the curls of her hair. Upon seeing Party Poison, her eyes lit up, filled with hope,

“Poison!!”

“Pull that trigger and she dies,” Korse said calmly, “It's up to you. But my guess is, we don't want our little saviour winding up a burn mark on the side of the road, now, do we?”

“Just do it, Poison,” Girl urged, “Turn his pasty ass to dust!”

Party Poison turned his gaze back to Korse. His finger tightened around the trigger, but he didn't pull it. Something in his blood ran cold at the thought. He couldn't do it.

_Why_?

This would stop it. If he killed Korse, took Girl home? He could end this, right now.

No one else would have to die.

Taking a step back, he lowered the gun in spite of himself and turned to Girl.

“I can't risk you,” he said, shaking his head, “I'm sorry.”

Her face fell.

With a snicker, Korse stood up and drew his gun, aiming square at Poison's head. He grinned.

“Checkmate.”

Before he could fire, a soft cough from nearby drew his attention, and he looked over to see Clara, still standing there with her platter.

“Aren't we forgetting something?”

Without another word, she drew a blaster from a hidden holster beneath her skirt. To Party Poison's shock, she shot Korse square in the chest, then flawlessly followed it up by taking out the three Dracs surrounding Girl, each with a single, clean blast. Twirling the gun on her finger, she blew the smoke from the barrel and flashed a cheeky grin,

“Told you it was hot out.”

Catching the look of horror on Poison's face, Clara snorted and rolled her eyes,

“Don't worry, mum, it's set to _stun._ ”

“Poison!”

Whirling on his heel, Party Poison knelt down as Girl ran to him, squeezing her tight as she reached his arms.

“I knew you'd come,” she said, pulling back, “But where are the guys? And why is there a diner in the middle of the road? And...”

She looked at Clara quizzically, eyebrows raised,

“Is that _Clara_?”

“Yeah,” Clara said, lowering her platter, “Don't sound so surprised.”

“Since when did you become cool?” Girl scoffed.

“Oi, I've always been cool!” Clara shot back, hands on her hips.

Girl stared at her blankly. Party Poison snickered.

“I _am_ cool,” Clara protested, “I'm very cool! You can ask anybody!”

“About as cool as _Bow tie_ man,” Girl mumbled.

Rising to his feet, Party Poison stepped over to her and patted her on the shoulder,

“Don't take it personal, okay? She's like five.”

“I'm _six,_ ” Girl corrected.

“My bad,” he said with a snort, “She's _six.”_

They both laughed. With a sigh, he turned and waved Girl on,

“Alright, Sweet Pea. Let's get you home.”

“Hold on,” she called back, “I left P2 in the back seat. Let me grab him!!”

Watching her bounce back over to the car, he smiled and shook his head,

“I can't believe it. We did it. We stopped it.”

“I can,” Clara said, as he turned back to her, “I wasn't gonna let goodbye be the last thing you said to me, Party Poison. Not like that.”

“Like what?” he asked softly, inching closer.

Breath caught in her throat, Clara slowly reached up and brushed a hand to his cheek. He leaned in.

And then....

A blood curdling scream rang out.

They broke apart, Party Poison whirling around to see Girl, now trapped in the back seat of the car. The door had shut behind her, and she beat her palms against the window.

“Poison!!”

“Sweet Pea,” he ran over, grabbed the handle and pulled as hard as he could. It was no use. The door was locked.

“Can you unlock it!?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“There's no lock,” she cried, “What's going on!?”

Clara hurried over, shooing Party Poison out of the way as she raised her gun,

“Move!”

He stepped back. As she fired, the laser beam ricocheted off. It struck a nearby bush, catching it on fire.

The car's engine started then, and Girl screamed, frantically trying to escape.

“Poison, help!!”

Before he could react, the tires let out a squeal and the car sped off of it's own volition, swerving around the diner and on down the highway. He tore after it, screaming.

“No! Sweet Pea!!”

As he rounded the diner, he saw her, standing in the middle of the road up ahead, the woman with the short, black bob and grey dress suit. In one hand she held a remote control, in the other, a gun.

“Go-Go,” he breathed.

Without a word, Go-Go raised the gun and fired.

Clara let out a scream as Party Poison fell to the dirt and ran to his side at full speed. She looked up to see Go-Go, climbing onto the back of motorcycle and speeding off after the car, back toward Battery City before she could even draw her gun. Rolling Party Poison over onto his back, she surveyed the damage and choked back a sob. The fabric of his jacket had melted in the heat of the blast, burned black over his left shoulder.

“Party Poison?” she gasped, shaking him gently.

He didn't respond.

 

~ø~

 

The lobby floor rumbled beneath them, tile beginning to crack and sunder.

The Doctor looked around, eyes wide as the cracks started up the walls,

“Oh, that's not good.”

A screech sounded behind them, and sure enough, a portal tore open the air and out popped a black, winged creature nearly the size of a car. It made eyes for the group and let out another shriek, readying to swoop.

“That's definitely not good,” the Doctor shouted, “Run!”

The group quickly fled, scrambling for the doors. In the panic, Joe lost his footing and fell, catching himself, unwittingly, on the face of his doppelganger. The Doctor panicked.

“Joe, no!!”

Another roar sounded and a rift opened up right above the Draculoid. Out from it's depths flew another Reaper, talons poised and ready. It grabbed Joe by the shoulders and hoisted him up, dragging him screaming back through the void.

Yaz gaped at the rift in shock as his screams stopped,

“Doctor!!”

“There's nothing we can do for him, now,” she said bluntly, grabbing her arm and dragging her toward the side door.

Oz opened fire on the creatures, soon finding the laser beams had no affect. With a curse, she sped after the group as they hurried outside.

“What's happening!?” Ryan asked as they hurried back across the bridge toward the car.

“A time fracture!” the Doctor said, “The longer Michael is out of sync with his timeline the worse the fracture will get! We have to find him and put him back where he belongs!”

“But, Doc,” Graham asked, huffing with every step, “Doesn't that mean he'll die?”

The Doctor refrained from answering.

As they nearly reached the car, the bridge began to shake and crack. It split apart, the pathway crumbling away to the street below. Upon finding her bearings, the Doctor looked around,

“Everybody okay!?”

“Doctor.”

She turned on her heel, standing at the edge of the collapse, to see that Oz had been trapped on the other side.

Alone.

“Oz,” she said, holding out her arms, “C'mon. I've got you. Just jump for it.”

“I can't make that.”

“Yes, you can,” the Doctor insisted, “Trust me!”

Oz shook her head.

“You get to the car,” Oz said, tears in her eyes as she readied her gun, “Save yourself, I'll hold them back--”

“Oz--”

“Just promise me,” she continued, sniffling hard, “When you see Val...you tell him this...”

She wiped her eyes as the tears came, quickly steeling herself with a smile,

“You tell him I said to run. Run you clever boy....and remember me.”

The Doctor shook her head, letting out a horrific yell as Oz turned away from the group and charged back for the Reapers, gun drawn and blazing. Yaz grabbed her as she nearly attempted to leap across the gap and dragged her back toward the car, kicking and screaming. Shoving her into the backseat, Yaz hopped into the driver's side as the others climbed in, and sped back toward the Rift as fast as the car could go.

 

* * *

A/N: RIP Joe the Draculoid. 

Also, sorry for the short chapter, guys. I've been running on fumes, lately. 

 

 

 


	9. Blow A Kiss To The Methane Skies

They broke through within a matter of seconds, making it to the other side in record time with relatively fewer dents. Smoke billowed out from under the hood as the car sputtered and came to a stop. Ryan was the first to climb out.

“I think I'm gonna be sick,” he gagged.

Yaz turned back to the Doctor, brown eyes wide and sparkling,

“Doctor? Are you all right?”

“She died for me, again,” the Doctor said darkly, “I think I'm far from all right.”

“Again?” Yaz asked, voice soft.

Without another word, the Doctor climbed out of the backseat and slammed the door shut behind her.

“We need to get back to the TARDIS,” she began, marching on down the dusty road, “Find Michael and put everything right. Back the way it's supposed to be.”

“On foot?” Graham asked as he hopped out of the passenger's seat, the door promptly falling off.

“Yes,” the Doctor groaned, rolling her eyes as she turned back to him, “What? You really wanna chance it in that?”

The driver's side door fell open, crashing to the ground as Yaz touched the handle.

“But we haven't got any water,” Graham began, “No supplies, nothing! And we're miles from the TARDIS as it is! Can't you call it back to you with the screwdriver?”

“She's not a dog, Graham! She doesn't just come when I call her,” the Doctor said, “Believe me, I've tried. It did not end well.”

“Graham's right, though,” Ryan chimed as he approached, “We'll never make it back to the TARDIS. Not like this! Not in this heat! We need a plan.”

The sound of screeching tires behind them drew their attention. A few feet away, a white van covered in dirt and graffiti had pulled up and out from the driver's side, Val. He held a blue ray gun in his hand. The Doctor recognised it as Jet Star's, even with the name GREG scrawled on the side. He aimed it for the Doctor's head as he approached, looking around frantically at the others.

“Where is she?” he demanded, “Where's Oz!?”

The Doctor's hearts sank. She shook her head.

“I'm sorry,” she breathed, “Val, I am so, so sorry.”

“What do you mean 'you're sorry'?” he snorted, “You will be if you don't tell me where she is!!”

Storming right up to her, he grabbed her collar with one hand and pressed the gun to her cheek with the other,

“Where is she? I'm giving you to the count of three--”

“She didn't make it,” Yaz said quickly.

He turned to her, eyes narrowed as the wind kicked his white hair across his face.

“What?”

Yaz continued, raising her hands up beside her,

“It wasn't anyone's fault. The Doctor tried to stop her.”

“Stop her from what,” he shoved the Doctor away and started for Yaz, finger on the trigger, “Stop her from what!?”

Ryan let out a shout and tackled him as he approached Yaz. The gun went off as they hit the dirt, laser striking Yaz in the leg. She let out a scream.

“Yaz!” the Doctor cried.

Graham hurried over and snatched the gun from Val's grasp. The Doctor rushed to Yaz, kneeling down beside her,

“Yaz! Are you all right!?”

Yaz squeezed her singed pant leg. The fabric had melted to her skin, singed and smoking. The Doctor turned back to Val, dark scowl on her face. Walking over, she plucked the second gun out of his holster and knelt down to be eye level with him. She pressed it to his head.

“You know, Val,” she began, “I've had just about enough of you hurting my friends.”

He glared up at her silently, nostrils flaring with every snarled breath. Licking her lips, she finally broke his gaze and rose to her feet, chucking the gun as far out into desert as she could.

“Lucky for you, I really _hate_ guns,” she said, “Let him up.”

Ryan rolled off of him, and Graham stepped back, keeping Jet Star's gun away from Val as he stood up and dusted himself off. The Doctor walked back to the middle of the road, gazing at the sparking Rift a few feet away.

“You wanna know where Oz is?”

She gestured to the Rift as looked back at him, scowling,

“There. Have a look! Be my guest. She stayed behind to buy us time to escape. So, we could come back here and save you. God only knows why! But I'm not about to let her sacrifice be in vain over some pithy little boy who isn't getting his way!”

She turned and started marching for the van,

“We're taking your ride. You can come with us if you like or you can stay here. The choice is yours. C'mon, team.”

Graham glanced back at Val as Ryan hurried over to help Yaz. Val did not move. He just sat on his knees, gazing at the Rift, tears streaming down his cheeks. Hurrying after the Doctor, he shook his head,

“We're not really gonna leave him here, are we, Doc? I mean look at him!”

The Doctor glanced back at Val as she rounded the van, giving it a second's pause before letting her eyes wander over to Yaz and Ryan. She winced as he helped her along, barely able to put weight on her wounded leg.

“I am looking,” the Doctor said coldly, climbing into the back, “Drive.”

Helping Yaz into the back, Ryan closed the door and turned to Graham,

“You okay?”

Graham watched a moment longer as the white-haired man let out an agonised shriek and slammed his fists against the dirt.

“Graham!” the Doctor called. With a flick of her screwdriver, the engine roared to life.

Shaking his head, he climbed into the driver's seat, stealing one last glance at Val before peeling off in the opposite direction.

 

~ø~

 

They arrived back at the TARDIS in record time. Pacing the console, the Doctor got flicked on the switches and got her roaring to life. She guided them back down the road toward the Rift.

“Hold on, gang!” she said.

Upon entering the Rift, the TARDIS immediately began to protest. The Doctor clung to the controls tight as she began to pitch and groan. Ryan held onto Yaz, securing them both on a crystal pillar, while Graham flailed and flew back against the wall.

“Doctor!” Yaz cried, “What are you doing!?”

“Getting us through the Rift, back to the proper timeline,” the Doctor answered, “It's the only way to find Michael!”

“But what about the Reapers!?”

“Don't worry,” she said, “I'm good at dodging!!”

The TARDIS shook violently, then, beginning a downward plunge as the Doctor was thrown from the console. The screens showed a cluster of Reapers, one of which the TARDIS had promptly smacked in to. It fell from the sky with a pathetic wailing screech.

Ryan turned to Yaz, making sure she was secured, and nodded,

“Stay here.”

He then let go of her and slid down to the console, inching his way around it carefully to the guidance controls. Gripping tight to a pipe beneath the console, he reached for the Doctor as she clung desperately to an opposing pillar, the TARDIS still in a spiralling nosedive.

“Doctor!!” he called hand outstretched as he dangled from the console, “Take my hand!”

They reached for each other, finger tips barely brushing.

The Doctor shook her head,

“I can't reach you!”

“Yes, you can!” Ryan said, inching a little lower, “I'm right here! Just take my hand!”

The TARDIS hit a rough pocket of air. Using it as a boost, the Doctor jumped and managed to snag Ryan's hand just barely. She dangled for a moment before securing her boots to the floor, and climbed up his arm as if scaling a mountain. As she reached the console, again, she grabbed onto the controls, Ryan following suit. It took both of them to push the lever back to an upright position, levelling the TARDIS back out. She then hurriedly pulled up, smashing through the BLI building on the way up toward the atmosphere.

Once in the clear, she leaned back against the console, Ryan sinking to the floor.

“Thanks, Ryan,” she said, finally catching her breath.

He nodded and offered a thumbs up.  
“Anytime.”

Looking to the screens, the Doctor tensed. The city was actively in chaos. Reapers had flooded the streets, swooping up citizens left and right. Cars had crashed into poles and planes into skyscrapers. Some structures had even started to dematerialise.

“Look at it. An entire city come to ruin. Not saying they didn't deserve it,” she shook her head, “We have to find Michael and put him back, now, before this gets any worse.”

Ryan hurried back over to Yaz and knelt down beside her,

“You okay?”

She nodded,

“Yeah, thanks.”

Looking passed him, she watched as the Doctor furiously paced the console, typing away at the keys and pulling levers in seemingly aimless fashion. She swallowed hard,

“Doctor? What about those kids?”

“What kids?” the Doctor said without looking away from the monitors.

“The kids at the church? The ones Oz was looking after?”

“What about them?”

Yaz straightened, taken aback by the Doctor's sudden coldness.

"Are we going back for them?" she asked.

Her question fell on deaf ears. The Doctor didn't answer.

“She said they were gonna die out there if we didn't do something," Yaz continued, "But if we put your friend back where he belongs...that timeline will never have existed.”

“Ideally, yeah,” the Doctor said, “The Splinter will merge back into the time stream and history will go back to the way it was supposed to be.”

“But those kids won't be there,” Yaz said, “They'll disappear with the Splinter.”

The Doctor stopped at her words, the hint of anger in her voice.

“You lied to Oz,” Yaz continued, “You told her those kids would be okay, when in reality they won't even exist--”

“I never said they'd be _okay_ ,” the Doctor snapped, “I said they wouldn't _die_. You can't kill what was never supposed to exist in the first place.”

The group fell silent. Hanging her head, the Doctor let out a heavy sigh and turned to the four of them,

“You three have been with me for a while, now. You know the risks involved in what we do. And as you can see, this time it is _very_ different. The stakes are so much higher than they've ever been before. If we don't get this right? If we don't put Michael back in the exact moment he was taken from? We _all_ die. And not just the four of us in this room, the whole Universe! No past, no present, no future. Reality itself will burn. Is that what you want?”

Ryan shook his head,

“Well, no...but Yaz is right. You lied--”

“I did what I had to do,” the Doctor interrupted, “I did what was right for the Universe. And sometimes, that requires a lie.”

“How many other people have you lied to, Doctor?” Yaz asked.

“A few,” the Doctor said hesitantly, turning her attention back to the screens.

“Have you ever lied to _us_?”

“No,” she said.

She frantically pounded away at the keyboard, eyes fixed on the monitor. She hadn't even acknowledged the question.

“No,” the Doctor repeated, shaking her head, “No, no! He's gone! He's already gone!!”

“Who? Your friend?” Ryan asked.

“Yes,” the Doctor cried, “His military record. Gone! Birth certificate, adoption files! Social security number! All of it! It's all gone! The process has already started!!”

She continued to frantically scour the data, eyes searching for any sign that Party Poison still existed. The searches came up dry. Letting out an aggravated scream, she slammed her fists down on the keys, causing them to spark.

The trio jumped.

“Oi, Doc,” Graham said, cautiously approaching her, “Try to calm down, okay? It'll be all right--”

“Not if we don't find him, it won't be! Or haven't you been listening!?”

She tore herself away from the screen and began to pace, pulling violently at her hair.

“Someone in this blasted Universe has to know Michael Milligram, or else we are all _royally_ \--”

She turned on her heel sharply, eyes falling on Graham. He stood quietly across from her, hand raised like a schoolboy.

“That wasn't a question, Graham! Put your hand down!”

The Doctor began to pace again, only briefly before she paused and walked up to him with a raised brow,

“Why is your hand up, anyway?”

“You said, Michael Milligram,” he shrugged.

“Yeah? And?”

Graham nodded, slowly lowering his hand,

“It's just...I know him. Known him my whole life actually.”

The Doctor straightened, hearts stopping at his words.

“ _How_?”

“The Dracula Men in the desert,” Graham nodded, shoving his hands in his coat pockets, “The Exterminators – _Scarecrows,_ I think he called 'em? Even the time-travelling police box, which should have been the tip off thinking back...”

“Graham,” the Doctor shook her head as she lunged forward, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders, “How do you know Michael? Because _how_ you know him can tell me where he still exists, and if he still exists, that means there's a chance we can help him! So, please!”

Ryan cautiously stepped toward them, eyeing the Doctor more so than Graham.

“Granddad?”

Graham, seeing Ryan's growing concern, waved him down with a smile.

“Was hard growing up not knowing that name. Michael Milligram, the Big Red One.”

The Doctor shook her head and hurried back over to the console,

“His military record is already wiped out. I can't find him that way! There's no trace!”

Graham nodded,

“Try looking up.... _Brian O'Brien._ ”

Ryan snorted.

“ _Brian O'Brien_ ," he said, "That's a bit cruel, innit?"

Graham walked up beside the Doctor as she pulled up a picture of Brian O'Brien. The photograph was blurred, weathered with age, but it showed two men standing outside of a bar. One of them the Doctor didn't recognise, but the other was unmistakably Party Poison. And Graham pointed right at him.

“That was taken in London. Tenth of November, 1943. My granddad went to meet him up with him when he came back from Tunisia. That's Ol' Bob there,” he tapped on the man next to Party Poison.

“They were friends?” the Doctor asked.

“Not really,” Graham said, “Lot of people thought of Mike as a kook. Always telling stories of the Dracula Men in the Old Zones of California. Granddad told him he should write dime novels. Don't think he listened, though.”

“How did they know each other if they weren't friends?” Yaz asked.

“They were both stationed in North Africa during '43. Most everybody clashed but he thought Mike was a pretty good guy, if not a bit off. During the raid of Sened, he was hit by German fire. Would've died had Mike not been there. Kept the pressure on till the medic arrived. Heard the story every Christmas.”

The Doctor smiled at that and grabbed Graham suddenly by the cheeks,

“Oh, Graham. I could kiss you, right now!

She then scowled and hurried away from him, flicking switches on the console as she went,

“But I won't.”

The trio watched her curiously as she ran around and around, smashing buttons and pulling knobs until finally she stopped at the ignition lever.

“Now, if I've done my calculations correctly, and let's assume I have, Michael will have touched this photograph at some point or another. The TARDIS should be able to pick up on any sliver of time energy he left behind and trace it back it's source.”

“That's a pretty big hypothetical there, Doc,” Graham said, “You said all his records are gone, yeah? Maybe this photograph is all that's left of him.”

“The photo _and_ your memory,” the Doctor corrected, “And as long as you can hold on to the memory of your granddad's story, then that means Michael is still out there somewhere. It _has_ to.”

Reaching up, she grabbed the final lever, hesitating briefly. The thought that it might not work did cross her mind, but she shoved it away. This would work. She had faith.

“Here we go, then,” she said finally, offering them a smile, “Into the Unknown.”

 

 

~ø~

 

 

Wiping his eyes, Val slowly rose to his feet and staggered mindlessly toward the Rift. His eyes fixated on it, lip quivering as he approached, barely able to form words.

“OZ!” he cried, dropping to his knees before it, “OZ, CAN YOU HEAR ME??”

He continued to sob, tears splashing onto dusty asphalt until a loud clattering drew his attention. A few feet from him lay a black, flip phone. It seemed to have been thrown from inside the rift.

Crawling over to it, he snatched it up and held it to his ear, listening intently.

“O-Oz?”

_“What are you doing with that?”_ said a distinctly feminine voice on the other end.

They had an accent, he noted, reminiscent of Mary Poppins, but it was her, it had to be. His Oz. But why was she pulling that voice?

“ _Calling Doc,”_ said another voice, deeper this time, more masculine, _“He'll know how to fix this.”_

“ _Party Poison, wait--”_

Val narrowed his eyes at the name.

“Party Poison?”

Wasn't that the name of the Killjoy the Doctor had been looking for?

“ _We can still figure this out,”_ Oz continued, _“Time is on our side!”_

“ _BUT IT'S NOT ON HERS!!”_ the other voice shrieked, _“She didn't ask for this, Clara! And I can't live with what we just did--”_

The voices cut to shrill static then, scrambled for a few minutes before cutting back in.

“ _What are you doing with that?”_ Oz repeated.

“ _Calling Doc. He'll know how to fix this.”_

“ _Party Poison, wait--”_

The dialogue stuck to the loop. Lowering the phone, Val rose to his feet and ran out into the brush where the Doctor had thrown his gun. Jogging back to the Rift, he swallowed hard, finger on the trigger.

“I'm coming, Ozzie,” he said.

With a deep breath, he ran straight into the Rift. Once inside, his skin immediately began to burn, insides pushing outward, outsides pulling in. He couldn't even scream as he felt himself being ripped in several different directions before finally dissolving into static and noise.

 

 


End file.
